Seventy Thirty - College Days

I was alone in the shower block, half the hall at lunch, the other half, some place else. The whole place felt deserted, silent, dust motes drifting in the lazy sunlight. I locked the cubicle door as I always did, and ran the water to the right temperature. With no one else there, and no waiting presence, I luxuriated under the shower longer than usual, turning this way and that under the water, letting it cool my body, cleanse it.

On a whim, I stood so the water jets could zing on my nipples, bringing them up in tight nubs. I pressed both hands against my breasts, loving the pressure against my nips. I looked down at them, their areola all crinkled up, and I liked what I saw. I suddenly wanted to kiss them, take a nub into my mouth, suck on my flesh. Bite them. I couldn't of course, but I wanted to.

I looked further down, at the little curve of my belly, at the soft fur on my mons. I ran my hand down to my pussy, spread my legs, and the shower water ran down my body. Suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do. I quickly turned the water off, wrapped the towel around me, still dripping. With my toilet bag in one hand, my door key ready in the other, I swiftly exited the bathroom, looked in both directions, nobody there! I ran down the corridor on my tip toes, and within ten seconds I was back in my room with the door locked.

My window looked out over a car park and some bushes. Some cars were parked there, but there was no-one was in sight. At this time of day, there wouldn't be, and I knew many of the cars were rarely used. Even so, I pulled one curtain half closed, then looked back at the bed, and decided I was safe. Unless someone came right up to the window and peered in deliberately, I couldn't be seen.

I let the towel fall away from my body, placing it over its drying rail, between the sink and the window. I felt a little bit wicked, being naked at 12:45 in the afternoon. I'd never done this before, not ever. All around me the hall was silent, no doors shutting, no distant voices, no music from down the corridor, not a whisper, not a wind. I felt completely alone, by myself; just me, a girl by herself in a room.

I studied myself in the mirror, saw my dark eyes, my tangled wet hair, my nipples still tight, a deep rosy red. I'd never really studied my nipples before, not in daylight. I ran a flannel under cold water, and it was very cold, and pressed it against both breasts. The cold brought my nipples up, pulling them up hard and tight, and it felt so, so good. My nipples looked lovely, and felt lovely, too. My breasts were not so bad either, with a shallow valley between them.

I threw the flannel into the sink, took five steps to the bed, and fell onto my back, on top of the bed cover. I'd masturbated before, quite often, but never like this, not naked, not uncovered. Before, it had always been in my pyjamas, in my bed, trying not to make a sound. Not naked, and never in the middle of the day.

But now, with the window half open, I could feel a faint breeze curl over my bare skin and it was different. I was naked and the air was warm. I began to caress myself. Slowly. I touched myself. Only my breasts at first, teasing my nipples up again, pinching them, tugging and pulling. I felt my nipples grow longer and harder, and I felt a deep ache, both up from my breasts into my nipples, and from inside them, right inside, back inside my flesh. A jab down to my clitoris. Mmmm, that was good.

Goose bumps thrilled down my arms, and with one hand I played through my pubic hair, over the tip of my clitoris, still hidden, and my labia felt so soft, like velvet, hot velvet. I licked my lips, they were dry. I licked them again, put the tips of two fingers into my mouth, licked them wet, and touched myself between my legs again. And sighed. My pussy was so smooth, and I felt decadent, spoiled, lying there all by myself, in the nude. I sighed again, and whispered my name, Leah. Nerves jangled between my nipples and my clit. My arousal intensified, my body felt as if it shimmered in light.

Around me, nothing moved, no sound, only silence. I lay there, my fingers quietly playing, and I began to make love to myself. I'd never done it like this before, not slowly, not naked, not within myself. Not with Leah. I fell in love with my body that day.

As I entered my pussy with my fingers, I found new fantasies and new visions running through my mind, and they aroused me. They ran through my head as dreams do, scattered and disjointed, yet full of sex and sights and my imagination. I slid my pussy wet fingers back up to my nipples, then to my mouth. I tasted myself, that slight salty taste, then dropped my spit wet fingers back down to my clit, keeping her wet.

Alex was there with his smiling blue eyes, walking with me, my hand in his. Laughing. I wanted him to kiss me, and I stood on the tips of my toes to reach his mouth. Casey was there too, another blond boy walking with me, but then he was gone, only a fleeting glimpse. I couldn't hold onto them as my mind jumped and wandered.

My fingers circled my clit, pushing down along the shaft. Was this what a cock felt like, only smaller? I didn't know, but my clitoris felt really big. I twirled a finger over the tip, ohh, too intense! and went back to the pressure, deeper down, pressing the clit shaft with two fingers. I licked my lips, they were dry. I heard myself open mouth breathing, long sighs interrupted by raggedy breaths.

My breasts ached. I pressed my palms against them to ease that feeling, but then I wanted more of it, wanted that ache to spread. I rolled onto my belly, rubbing my boobs along the bed cover to zing both nipples at the same time. One hand crept up to my face, fucking my mouth with two fingers, and my other hand slid under my belly, back to my clit, rubbing faster.

Oh God, oh God, I heard voices. I froze, and felt my pussy pulse. I flipped off the bed and crept to the door, to check it was locked. It was, but I crouched there before it, my hand cupping my wet pussy. Down the corridor a door closed, two down, and I knew it was Arabella, gone into her room.

A crazy thought zipped through my head, and I imagined Arabella and Alex nude, me watching them. But I'd never seen any adults undressed, and I couldn't picture their naked skin, so my fantasy unravelled with them dressed and me naked, watching them kiss, groping each other within clothes. They turned to see me, both smiling, and I fell back onto the bed, my fingers faster, an orgasm building, knowing I was going to come, come quickly if I kept doing this. With Alex and Arabella watching, my fingers fast around my clit, much quicker now...

...building me up to an orgasm, my back arching, my hips raised off the bed, oh fuck, oh fuck, there's so much pleasure, my body felt so good, everything frozen, everything stopped...

and I shuddered into a come, my eyes tight closed, colours rolling and turning behind my eyelids, pale pastel pinks folding over me like a sun heated blanket, balmy and so sweet I could taste it, and the orgasm came in another wave, and I'm sure I cried out. I pressed my cunt hard, covering her with the palm of my hand. I felt a wild liberation, whispering, "My cunt." I'd never spoken that word before. My cunt. God! Leah!

I slowly recovered, getting my breath back. I felt little shudders through my pussy, ripples through my flesh, heat inside my body. I somehow managed to roll under the top cover into the bed, to stay warm. I think I fell asleep, drifting in my mind, a blissed out smile on my face. When I opened my eyes, the light in the room seemed different, and it was raining softly. I don't remember when the rain started.

I didn't know how long I'd been playing, nor how long I was asleep. I looked at my watch. Leah! Two hours! There's the afternoon gone. I didn't care, I was going to do this again.

I smelled my hands, and loved the smell of me, that scent of sex. I decided I'd better wash my face, though, before I went out. But I wouldn't wash between my legs. Nobody would come close enough to know, but if they did, I'd want them to wonder. I'd put panties on, but no bra - my breasts aren't that big, I don't always need one. I thought of Alex's hands, and wondered about myself, wondering.

And I found myself thinking of Arabella, too, wondering if I'd in fact seen a shadow between her legs or just wished it, imagining what another girl would feel like to touch.

* * * *

The weather began to get cooler. It was mid-term, and I found myself thinking about sex, a lot. I had regular "dates" with myself, those lazy afternoons, those long masturbation sessions where I learned to know my body very well. I began to ponder my virginity, and what I might be able to do with it.

As I crossed the lawn between the buildings one afternoon, I looked up at the windows and saw Alex's room, up on the first floor. His room looked over the lawn, facing west. I could see the afternoon sun reflecting off the window. I stopped, and looked at the time. Just after two.

My room faced south, so I never had the sun shining in my window, and while it was still warm, before deep autumn really set in... would he mind? I could only ask. So I did.

"Alex, my quiet Tuesdays..." I'd told him about my lazy afternoons when the hall was quiet, how I got so much work and reading done. I didn't say anything about what I was really doing, and he probably thought I was sleeping. He'd often see my sleepy face, those dinner times after sex, and called them my quiet Tuesdays, quiet Thursdays. I liked the idea of that, because that's what they were, my quiet times with myself.

And I knew Tuesday afternoon was Alex's longest day, two lectures and a tutorial in between, so he was never around until later.

"My quiet Tuesdays. It's not fair, you get the sun, and I never get any." I pouted.

He'd gently tease me about my pale skin and the big floppy hats I wore, "Très Parisienne, très chic," so he knew I craved some sun at least, en robe de parade, like Ezra Pound's woman. Or being out in it at least, protecting my skin.

"Can I borrow some of yours? Only for the afternoon. I wouldn't move in or anything, or steal it." I touched his arm, and looked up at him, shameless, light-hearted. I meant the sun, not his heart, and I had no idea where my bravery came from.

"What, you mean borrow my room sometimes, get the arvo sun?"

"Yes. Please?" I pressed my head against his shoulder for further effect, and looked up at him again, doing my cutest eyes. I could be shameless like Arabella. Only not sexual, not like her.

"Yeah, why not? Don't trash it!" He laughed, and there it was, simple. "I'll leave it open, or give you the key. I don't always lock it, anyway."

"Shouldn't you lock it, when you're out?" I was a little shocked when he said that.

"S'pose I should, yeah. Just got used to leaving my room open, with Nene and Clio, last year. Bad habits, you know?"

I knew about Clio, and I knew about Janine too, Alex's girlfriend in third term last year. She was still in the hall and they were friendly, but they'd not started up again after the long summer break. Not everyone survives time apart.

But there it was, the promise of Alex's room with its sun, where I could bask in the warmth, nap in the afternoon. I hoped it wouldn't rain.

It didn't rain. In the end, Alex gave me his spare key just after lunch, and when I went to his room, I found a little note in his untidy writing, 'Welcome, Leah, to the sunny room of Alex. Coffee or tea, milk in the fridge down the hall, my name on it. Back after five." And the gorgeous boy had turned the chair towards the window facing the sun, and draped a blanket over it.

I locked the door, just in case, and looked around his room. It was the mirror flip of mine, and for a boy, he kept it tidy. Or did I just have an idea of boys, young men, that they'd automatically be messy?

I looked at his books, running my finger along their spines, thinking, oh look, next year's texts. Plus a row of history books. I looked along the spines of his cassette tapes, noting a bunch of Doors albums, stuff by The Who, Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin. I picked up a pair of headphones plugged into his amp, and imagined him there, zoned out with that music played loud. I had a radio, tuned to Two Double C, so at least I'd heard some of these songs.

I'd brought two delicate roses as a thank you, nicked from the warden's garden behind Central Block. Alex didn't have a vase, so I placed them in a glass in the middle of his desk, with my own note, "Alex, these little flowers are for you, from your sunny friend, Leah xx" Two kisses, that seemed about right, didn't it? Not too many imaginary kisses?

I'd also brought a bag with a folder and some books in it, as sort of an alibi. I had no idea if Alex would say anything to anybody about me borrowing his room. Why would he? People were in and out of rooms all over the hall, and it usually became common knowledge who was sleeping with who. Sleepy greetings in the mornings, that kind of thing.

People knew, so I suppose there must have been some sort of grape vine. Nobody cared though, no one judged. It was so different to school, where every rumour was everyone's business. It had taken me a while to get used to that - but if people thought I was sleeping with Alex... that would be a surprise. Nobody would expect it. Except of course, I wasn't.

But there I was, in Alex's room, there to soak up the sun. It streamed in, and when I touched the window, the glass was warm. The windows in my room were always cold. In the centre of the room, in the centre of the sunshine, if you like, Alex had placed the lounge chair, with a rug draped over it, which was already warm from the sun. It all seemed so cosy. I felt all warm inside, as if his room embraced me.

As I got a book from my bag, I glanced into the only corner of the room I'd not seen, the corner behind the door. Which obviously was hidden when I'd entered, and behind me when I closed the door, because I was facing the window. But now, there it was, a full sized poster, mostly a brilliant, shining gold, blue-tacked to the wall in the corner, looking down over the bed.

She was life sized, naked from the waist up, one breast bare, the other behind a translucent veil. Her nipples were showing, the bare one a faint pink, the other, behind the veil, a light brown. Her face, oh my God, so sensual. Sexual. With her head tilted back, her mouth slightly open showing her teeth, and a great mane of hair, she looked seductively down at the viewer, her eyes drowsy, half closed. I had never in my life seen a painting that oozed so much sex. In fact, I'd never seen a painting like it before, ever.

I saw that her breasts were like mine, nicely curved, sweetly small.

Then, with a jolt, I gasped. Her right hand, strangely positioned, rested upon a man's head, right down at the bottom right corner of the painting. His eyes were closed. Was he dead? Why was he so low in the frame?

I had no idea who the artist was, I had no idea who the subject was. Her sexual power, looking down on Alex as he slept, was indescribable. How could he stand it? Wouldn't he feel her there, every night? Sex, on his wall. God, that was amazing, to think about that.

I looked for the artist's signature, but couldn't find one. I'd have to ask Alex who she was, this unbelievably sexual woman, and who painted her. I lay back on the bed, imagining myself there every night with this witch, this seductress, whoever she was, looking down on me.

As I lay there, I felt a deep sexual throb in my belly, and my nipples grew erect. Was it the painting hitting some sexual trigger, or the illicit thrill of being in his room? I was tingling with sexual energy. I had to do something with it. It was Tuesday afternoon after all, and the idea of making love to myself, my hot masturbation, jagged through me. God, masturbation. The word had a power over me, almost sinful; wrong, but so right. My masturbation, mine. It's my body, I'll do what I want with it.

I got up from the bed and went to the chair, to be in the sun. I undid all the buttons on my shirt and ran my fingers over my bare breasts, feeling my nipples tighten, thicken. I loved the wrinkled feel of the areola, the way the flesh puckered up, placing hard tips on my breasts. I felt the wonderful warm sun on them, on my belly, on my skin. I lay back at a slight angle in the chair, placed one foot on the chair cushion, the other foot on the window sill, and felt that first spread of my pussy, that tight stretch in my thighs.

My hand crept down over my belly. I undid the zip of my jeans and pushed my fingers into the waist band of my panties. But I was constrained by my jeans, I had to get them off. I tugged them down, lifting my bum off the chair, fighting to pull them off.

I looked across at the desk, saw the room keys there, and confirmed in my head that I'd locked the door. I was safe, unseen. No-one knew I was there, except Alex. And he was away all afternoon.

I looked down at my plain white cotton tails and saw a dark line of wetness slowly getting wider and longer between my legs. I felt my soft hair. Leah, you're going to masturbate in Alex's room, aren't you? Yes, I was, and the taboo of it rattled me, but the sex of it thrilled me beyond danger.

I spread my legs a little wider, running my fingers up and down my thighs, and into the cups of flesh next to my pussy. I ran a finger in along my pussy lips, in under the soft cloth, and felt my velvet petals, warm and wet. Wet. Oh God, what if I spread my wetness over Alex's rug? I looked over, saw a towel on the drying rack by the window. I leaned forward, keeping myself low, and grabbed the towel, pulled it towards me, and placed it on the chair.

A last rational thought went through my mind, that I'd get the towel wet with my juices. Then I thought, it should dry before morning, when he showers. Then the towel will be wet anyway, and my pussy wet won't matter. It was only later, days later, that I thought about my scent, and wondered, with a small panic, how long it had lingered. If it had lingered at all, a scent of me in his room. Had he known, or guessed what I'd been doing? He never said, but he let me borrow his room the next week, so maybe I did leave a scent, after all.

But in the room, in the sun, my body naked, except for my unbuttoned shirt... could this ever be deemed innocent? Sprawled in the chair, my skin warm from the sun, my breasts and pussy ached. I loved the deep throb within me, so intense it almost hurt, knowing that an orgasm would flow over me like hot fire, cold ice jagging into my nipples, hot honey in my cunt. I wanted to come, but I wanted it to last a very long time.

I slid my panties off.

Holy God, the idea of me, my sex open to the sun, soaking in this heat! My whole body shivered. My breasts felt so big, much bigger than usual, and I could see my nipples were thick and long, pulling my breasts up into tight peaks. I pressed both palms against them, loving the pressure on my nipples. I left one hand on a breast, and drifted the other one lower down, over my belly, over my furry patch. My fingers toyed around the opening of my cunt, pressing down on the shaft of my clitoris.

Usually, I played with myself lying on my back or my belly, but opening myself like this, half upright in a chair, it felt different. My breasts felt bigger, the ache in my belly deeper. I became more aware of my bottom, a heaviness there which I'd never felt before. And my cunt split open, the inner red of my lips showing. I put my fingers into myself and opened my cunt wide. Saying cunt in my head, that felt sexy. I wanted someone to see me like this, a young, succulent piece of fruit, someone to taste me.

The idea of me, the virgin Leah, being fucked, a cock in me... but I couldn't, I didn't know what it would be like, my imagination didn't go that far. I looked down at my fingers, wet from myself, but they weren't anything like a cock. I put them into my mouth and sucked, and I looked around. Did Alex have anything that might be better, in his room?