tagToys & MasturbationRachel and Stephen Ch. 03

Rachel and Stephen Ch. 03


An hour or so down the road, I was inwardly cursing myself as Stephen sang (off-key) along with the radio. I had been able to ignore the dirt road for the most part on the way back to the freeway, but irritatingly enough, my libido seemed to be ricocheting out of control. 'Rachel,' I told myself firmly, 'Stop this. So what if you are sex starved and that has been a frequent topic of conversation today. That is no excuse for this.' And anyway, I had just recently had a great orgasm. A really, really great one, actually... And this is where the problem was. I kept getting caught up thinking about it. Picturing it, imagining Stephen watching me. And then inevitably I would feel another flush of desire radiate through me.

By the time we reached the Best Western (which I was relieved to see didn't look too shady,) I had fallen silent, off in my own head battling my longing. Maybe, I though hesitantly, Stephen was right. At this point, it sounded great if he could be right, and I was quite willing to give it a shot. Alright then... 'Tonight, I've got a date with myself,' I thought almost giddily.


By the time I had my luggage up to the room, directly next to Stephen's, I was thoroughly impatient to give it a try. I tossed my suitcase to the side, and feeling wicked and sexy, slid my hand into the waistband of my shorts. A knock sounded at the door, and I jumped, jerking my hand back. Trying to calm my breathing, I peeked through the peephole, groaning when I saw Stephen's expectant face. Desperately attempting to resist the damned blush that was again creeping across my cheeks, I pulled open the door.


"I thought you might want to take a dip in the pool? If you didn't bring a suit there's a Walmart-"

But I had already cut him off with a fake yawn. "You know," I said with studied casualness, "I'm really feeling tired... Maybe not tonight."

He smirked, rejoining with "I bet you are after earlier..." but I was too distracted to even pretend to be offended.

This time, I shut and carefully locked the door. I showered quickly and slipped between the covers, naked as I preferred. The whole time, I felt nervous excitement building, so it was with great anticipation that I slid into bed.

Feeling shy, I started slowly, running my hands over my upper body. I breathed out the faintest grunt when I found my nipples stiff already, and experimented with the zing straight to my pussy that followed when I tugged them gently. Wriggling into the soft mattress, I stretched languorously, sighing at the shivery goodness that spread through me when I had all my muscles tensed.

Recognizing a sudden hot wetness between my thighs, I closed my eyes, sliding my left hand downward with a faint smile. I slipped my extended finger across the top of the slit, enjoying the wetness I spread. I moaned a little and then suddenly tensed. What if Stephen heard?! He would know! I stilled for a moment , but surprisingly felt my desire continue to quicken. "Oh, God," I murmured, letting my finger swirl in small circles.

It felt good this time – like it might actually work!

But a sudden thought crossed my mind – what if someone did hear? What if it wasn't Stephen, but instead a sweet old couple? Or a child?

I stilled again, feeling the faint nausea of shame. 'No!' I thought, and then whined out loud, "nooo..." I shoved a finger deep in myself, but it no longer felt good. Instead, I only felt discomfort. Deflated, I wiped my hand along my thigh, and shaking with pent-up desire and guilt, I fell into an uneasy sleep.

It didn't last long, however. Multiple times through the night, I woke from erotic dreams, and any further attempts to find relief from my sweaty aching desire met with more discomfort. By the time the sun finally rose, I was lying tangled in the one sheet left on my bed, feeling hopeless and bitter.

I was already up and dressed by the time Stephen came knocking on my door. Although his eyes were still puffy from sleep, he was disgustingly chipper.

"Good morning!" he crowed, and I glared back, resisting a strong urge to hit him. "Uh-huh..." I said, hating his cheerful manner. His grin collapsed a little, and he suddenly looked thoughtful.

"You're grumpy! I thought... I take it my idea wasn't quite successful for you?"

"No!" I said, in a slightly raised voice, ignoring the crestfallen look on his face.

"Well, we'll get there... Actually..." He trailed off and grabbed my wrist.

"What? What?! Why are you grinning?!" I was nearly yelling again as he tugged me into the bathroom. I was going to kill him. Or kiss him – the smirk on those firm lips looked delicious to me in my present state. Ugh. I hated myself even more every time I had one of these awkward thoughts about my friend. FRIEND. I thought it to myself again as I leaned against the wall. Mystified, I crossed my arms and watched suspiciously as he turned on the shower and began making adjustments.

"Stephen, I showered last night?" I said uncertainly.

"You don't need a shower... But you definitely need something, Rach. Be creative!" and he quickly stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door.

What?! "Stephen!" I yelled, pushing on the door but finding it stuck. "Let me out!" Why was it stuck? Was he leaning on it?!

I glanced at the shower again, noting the setting it was on – it sent out three hard pulses every half second or so. I thought for a minute, confused. It hardly looked relaxing... My eyes widened at a sudden thought. What if... I suddenly looked at the door. Was he standing there keeping the door from opening? What was he expecting? Was he imagining me right now? Maybe... me in the shower with that rough stream focused exactly where I needed it?

I felt a flush, but it was more the effect of a hot wave of desire and the warm steam swirling around me than any embarrassment.

Hesitantly, I called out "Uh, maybe I will take a shower. To... to relax."

I stripped quickly, glancing in the mirror, and then on a wicked impulse spread myself to see the red flush of arousal across my inner flesh. After staring for a moment, I stepped in the tub and turned my considering gaze on the warm water spraying out of the showerhead. It wasn't removable, so I would have to angle myself under the water right for this to work. I angled the showerhead as upright as it would go, and then pressed my back against the wall. By stretching my leg out to the side like a yoga pose and thrusting my pelvis out, the water thudded onto me, flickering across my engorged clit at every pulse.

I felt a guttural moan tear from me at the sensation. This was just what I needed... but as soon as I began to lapse into a stupor, my position became impossible to hold. I groaned again – but this time in pure frustration. I reluctantly returned to a standing position, glowering at the stream of water. Now that I knew its potential, I was feeling especially tormented. I stretched out again, but with my muscles already tired I couldn't get the water to reach that crucial point.

Feeling hopeless and aching with frustration, I flopped down, sitting heavily in the tub. What I really felt like was throwing a full on temper tantrum, but I reasoned with myself. As an adult, what I ought to do was calm down and get over it. I sighed and reached for the shower/bath toggle. Maybe a quick warm soak would help to relax a little of my tension if I couldn't have anything else. I started to lean back as warm water rushed in around me. Normally, it would have been soothing, but at that moment all I could feel was the way that each small wave lapped between my legs. God, this was torture!

Suddenly, I jerked back upright, speculatively eyeing the thick stream of water gushing from the spout in front of me. Looking at the distance between it and the wall, I thought maybe – I reclined myself backward, looking anxiously at the water as I bent my knees, spread my legs, and scooted forward. I lay down all the way to push forward the last few inches, and as I hit the limit of my flexibility (and the end of the tub) I cursed. Damn! The water was pounding down delightfully hard – but it was slapping against the cheeks of my ass. It was stimulating, actually, but it only served to add even more to my desperate agony. The swollen mound between my legs THROBBED – I could even feel my pulse beating in one swollen labia.

"Fuck." I said it out loud, surprising myself. The language wasn't like me – but you know what, it felt good. I was pissed – at myself, at Stephen, at this damn bathtub! But I also felt wanton and sexy, and it felt good to give in to my wild side, even just by cursing. Feeling suddenly determined, I looked at the water again. This felt good, and I needed it, so I was going to make it happen!

Basically, I needed a way to get that water to me, since I couldn't get to the spout. I tried shaping it with my feet, but that only gave me a few small hard-to-direct streams. My pussy was aching at this point, and, feeling consumed with fire, I knew I had to cum, fast. I could feel light spasms working their way from my tight entrance to deep within the slick recesses of my pussy, but instead of bringing me the ecstatic relief of orgasm, they were pushing me painfully onto the brink without going over.

Clenching my teeth, I had an idea. Quickly, I sat up a little ways. Although my feet couldn't direct the water correctly, I knew my hands could. It was just a matter of flexibility – and to my sublime relief, I could direct the heavy flow of water to my pussy without so much as lifting my head.

The water felt delightfully warm across my slippery labia, and it teased everywhere all at once, pounding and rubbing and massaging my thick outer lips, tingling across the flushed and swollen inner ones, and even pounding into the entrance of my aching pussy, giving me a feeling of fullness. I felt my breathing speed up, and everything faded away as my focus narrowed to the delicious sensation between my trembling legs. So, so close – but I needed more. I strained up into the water, hoping to tease my pulsing clit better, and then on an impulse moved one hand from the water stream.

My left hand kept the water pounding into my hungry pussy, while hesitantly my right hand dipped to the apex of my mound. I hovered there for a moment, and then my first and middle finger slowly lowered. I slid them in between my inner and outer labia, and paused for a moment, fingers cocooned in my own moist heat. Then, I pulled the vee of my fingers wider and upwards, and my stiff swollen clitoris sprang free of its hood. Immediately, the water was gushing down on it, tingling and tormenting, and I felt a delicious building start deep behind my belly button. My hips started to squirm, and although I felt an urge to prolong it I felt myself slipping past the point of no return. Knowing I couldn't stop now if I tried, I gave in with full abandon. My suppressed breathy moans slipped through my lips – first soft and high, nearly squeaks, but building, and as my orgasm at last ripped through me and my pussy grasped at what wasn't there, I gasped out a breathy "Ahh – ahhhh!"

Suddenly limp and exhausted, my sated body sank into the bath and I sighed happily. As my pulse slowed and euphoria faded, though, reality crept back in. Slowly, I became sensible of the fluorescent light, the roof, the water cooling around me, and the gold brown blur of the tiled walls through the clouded shower curtain. Then, something else crossed my mind. I sat up slowly, clasping my bent knees to me and feeling the adrenaline of embarrassment and panic. Oh God. Stephen knew. He had to know – again!

At this point, I decided I didn't care. I felt great, mentally and physically, and he hadn't even been in the room this time. It was time, I though confidently, to own my actions. I tried to ignore the terror that coursed through me – what if he just found me funny? Was he embarrassed? Or even grossed out? As the tub drained and I toweled off, I worked on calming my breathing. As I buttoned my pants and slid on my long sleeved tee, I focused on being realistic. Maybe he didn't know. If he had left the room there was always a chance he just thought I had had a normal shower. As I pulled the brass knob of the door towards me, I trained myself into being entirely nonchalant, ignoring my inner panic. My eyes narrowed as I stepped out and saw Stephen awkwardly across the room pulling at the leaf of a potted houseplant, his back to me.

I cleared my throat. He jumped (!) and then turned toward me, not meeting my eyes. "I feel much better!" I said, all chipper and chirpy. "Ah, good... um, ready to go then?" he mumbled a little. "Yep! You were right – a warm bath was really soothing and relaxing. I feel totally refreshed now," I replied. He walked across the room in front of me, holding his folded sweater a little awkwardly in front of himself, and as I got the direct side view, I realized that it was not quite hiding a bulge in his khaki shorts. Delight flashed within me – obviously, he wasn't horrified. In fact, it seemed like for once I had the power in our interactions, instead of being the naïve awkward one the whole time! I couldn't help but push my luck, buoyed by my recent success. I filed away my consideration of how sexy that bulge was (not to mention its size) and wiped the smirk off my face as best I could, and then , sounding as startled as possible said, "Stephen!!" He glanced at me in surprise and I looked significantly at his crotch.

However, instead of the guilt or awkwardness I expected, he met my eyes fully and flashed that breathtaking grin at me. "Oh, this, Rachel?" He moved the sweater. "It's just a normal guy thing – mornings, you know. I didn't realize you were so interested in it! Next time I'll let you get a better view – might even leave the shorts off!" My eyes were unfortunately still glued to him as I felt the smile slip off my face in panic and my ego deflate again at his joking. Damn. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say. I really, really ought to know better by now.

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