Lonely Laura Takes a BathbyMyPenIsMighty©
Laura dumped her bags unceremoniously on the bed, then collapsed face down into the pillow and screamed silently. Today had not gone well. She was twenty-four years old, and she was sick to death of writing papers, and lit reviews, and never doing anything that felt meaningful. Her novel was going nowhere, she had a demeaning job for anyone, even a grad student... she rolled over and wiped her eyes, then kicked her bag viciously off the bed.
She'd forgotten to do the last environmental scan and her professor was not going to let her do it late. "They won't let you do it late in the real world." she sneered, mimicking her advisor's breathy tones. "Sure, I show up late to every other class with a powerpoint that's older than you are and I still don't know how to use the five-year-old projector in the only classroom I ever teach in, but they won't let you it like that in the real world! I should know, I'm in academia!"
Laura smothered another scream, this one out loud, with her pillow, then hurled it across the room. It landed with an unsatisfying chuff in front of her dresser. Angrily, she grabbed it and began hitting it as hard as she could against her bed, over and over again, listening to the loud smack as it bounced off the recently laundered sheets. Finally, she spun around and hurled it again. It smacked the top of the dresser, scattering jewelry and books, and knocking over a pictureframe. For a few minutes Laura stood stock still, fuming; the only sound in the room was the gentle rocking of the dresser on the hardwood floor. The fury ebbed out of her and she dejectedly crossed the room to pick up her things.
She carefully strung her jewelry onto the stupid jewelry holder that she hated completely but couldn't part with. She stacked the books haphazardly next to them, then kicked the picture under the dresser. "It's not you, it's me! I'm a selfish douche who can't handle a relationship with a woman who needs to spend a whole year getting a graduate degree in a town that's just a half hour drive away. Screw you, Marcus! You insufferable prick! And what the hell is that noise?"
Even with the books and jewelry back on it, the dresser was rocking gently in place. She placed a hand on it; it was vibrating gently. She rolled her eyes and pulled her panty drawer open. There, just visible beneath a pile of recently laundered underthings with bears on, was the knobbed end of a purple vibrator, buzzing rhythmically. Laura almost choked in disgust. "Oh, gross. I bet Lisa hid it in here so her stupid boyfriend wouldn't find it. Stupid prude Lisa! Stupid boyfriend having prude Lisa. Oh, man, it probably got all over my stuff."
Slipping off her sock, she carefully fished the... holy crap, foot long vinyl toy out of her underwear, and flipped it onto the bed, where it bounced onto her pillow and lay expectantly. Recoiling in horror, she snatched it off the bed and dropped it on the floor, then kicked it under the bed, where it began to vibrate gently. "My bed! My underwear drawer! My sock. This whole room is going to need a priest."
She stalked back to her underwear drawer to slam it shut, but was interrupted by something glittering gaily from beneath her long-since-unused Boykiller panties. Carefully she slipped the never-fail garments to the side, revealing a note written with a purple sparkle-gel pen, taped to colossal bottle of lubricant. Several neighborhood dogs began barking before Laura could get control of the crystal-shattering shriek. Slightly hyperventilating, she read the note.
"Hey gurl, you seem like you've been having a rough time lately, and I thought you could use some relaxation! So I'm going to borrow you Hansel, here. Don't worry, I cleaned him! I didn't even use the dishwasher or anything this time. Both him and the lube are waterproof, by the way. Wink wink, nudge nudge, anyway I think you've got the house to yourself this weekend, have fuuuuun!
Laura stared at the note. Kelly had dotted the I's with hearts... and even put little umlaut hearts over all the U's. The native Wisconsinian use of "borrow" caused her eye to twitch involuntarily. Somehow, this was really sweet and completely horrifying at the same time. She looked from the note to her bed, where the ridiculous auburgine beast was gently purring. She was supposed to use that? Still armed with the sock, she carefully extracted it from its resting place amid discarded laundry and dustbunnies, twisted the dial to off and turned it over in her besocked hand. "I don't think I ever want to know why she named you Hansel. And I hope to god nobody heard me talking to a dildo."
She snapped open her sock drawer, dropped the inappropriately-named phallus in, then slammed the drawer shut again. Wiping her brow in cartoonish exhaustion, she paused, then sniffed her armpit. "Oh my god. Great, I totally reek, too. Fine, universe! I can take a hint! Boyfriend dumping me, roomie loaning me a mechanical cock! That cat trying to follow me home! I'm going to be alone forever, right? Fuck you! I'm taking a fucking shower. No! You know what, no. I'm taking a bath."
Laura stripped quickly, wrapped herself in her huge plush towel and inspected herself in the floor-length mirror her predecessor in the apartment had left behind. Looking around, she flapped open the towel, flashing speckled breasts, then wrapped it around her again. Someone had told her once to just go through and luxuriously describe her features, and find the most positive ones to make her feel better about herself, but it never worked. It especially wouldn't work today; she was in no mood for feel-good look-pretty BS. Looking at her tired eyes, though, drained some of the rage from her spirit.
Finally, she grabbed her shower caddy (those bitches stole her special shampoo if she left it in the tub), and started for the stairs. She stopped at the threshold, and shot a glance back at her sockdrawer, then tiptoed back, pulled out the vibrator and lube, and dropped it in the caddy. She could hide it in Kelly's room. She took the stairs as quickly as possible, then paused cautiously at the door to the living room. "Hello? Is anybody home?" she asked, glancing from the threadbare couch to the communal big-screen. Nobody. What a relief. This thought was naturally accompanied by the loud, audible slamming of the front door on the main level.
"Laura? Are you home? Hey! We're going out to eat. You wanna come with us? David and I are getting pizza!" It was Lisa. It was Lisa and her stupid sexy stupid boyfriend, David. Laura glanced at the purple monstrosity in her caddy, then for a brief second visualized Lisa and David coming in to find her sneaking anywhere near Kelly's room with the love child of a sex toy and siege equipment. Lisa would never let her live it down and she'd be totally humiliated if David saw her with it. Mortified, she dashed into the bathroom, slammed the door, locked it, and began running the water.
"Huh? Oh! No, I'm just about to take a bath! You guys go without me, I'll be fine."
"You sure, hon? It'd be David's treat! He just got a promotion and we're gonna go celebrate!"
Laura grimaced inwardly, then, remembering she couldn't be seen, grimaced outwardly. A chance to flirt with David about his promotion would be fun, but there was no way she could possibly sneak out of the bathroom with that pelvic jackhammer unseen, plus she smelled like a grease fire in a men's locker room. Not flirting with her slutty roommate's boyfriend was probably for the best, but David was remarkably adept at making her feel like a real person. After a day like today, she needed to feel like a real person.
As if reading her thoughts, the dildo began to buzz gently. Laura snatched it frantically from the caddy and wrenched on the knob, twisting it back to "off". She felt her face reddening with embarrassment as she held the thing in front of her, two-handed, like it was a sword. She needed to feel like a real person, and here was a fake... part of a person, trying to comfort her. "Trying to comfort me?" And now she was ascribing positive personality traits to sex toys.
She dropped the thing back into her shower caddy and glared at it, daring it to turn back on. She dipped a toe in the tub and grimaced at the needles of pain as the too-hot water boiled her foot. She turned on the cold water and sat naked on the end of the tub, gritting her teeth as she stirred the uncomfortably hot water with the uncomfortably cool water. Outside, she heard Lisa and David lumbering back and forth, their feet clomping on the old hardwood floors like rhinoceros ballerinas. They were so self-absorbed, they would never notice anything. No matter how hot David was, he was a jerk, and Lisa was a jerk. At least Kelly noticed her enough, even if she helped out like an idiot. She glanced at the toy, still sitting on her shampoo bottle, and tried not to picture a sympathetic smile.
Slowly she sank into the water. She imagined tension seeping out her pores and settling in the water, swirling into it and then down the drain. The water caressed her thighs, cupping her backside as she slid in, the warm water sliding up between her legs, making her bite her lip gently. The water crawled up her tummy then, and she lay in the water, feeling it creep around her, warm and almost pulsing.