The summer, which had seemed to last no more than a few short, blissful weeks of blue skies, long, warm days and joyful moods, was abruptly ending. The long, hard slog of cold, dark mornings and even colder and darker winter nights loomed as grey as the clouds that appeared ever present throughout the harsh season.

So it was with a satisfied smile Joyce awoke to bright sunshine streaming through her curtains, a sense of purpose in her stretch beneath sheets warmed by the early morning rays.

The flat that she shared with Chloe and Tom was quiet, as was typical before 09:00 any day, and indeed a mid-September Saturday.

The late-night shenanigans which Joyce and Grace had stumbled home from just hours before provided a better than usual excuse for the extra sleep. They'd left their friend's party with Tom still in full swing, insisting he was staying for "one more", so Joyce doubted he would surface any time before noon.

Joyce was an early riser, though, so the added motivation of spending a final day on the beach spurred her brain into action.

Throwing back her duvet with another deep stretch, Joyce chuckled to herself as she glimpsed the tuft of light pubic hair between her legs, the baggy t-shirt she'd gone to bed in - the only clothing she hadn't tossed to the floor in her drunken state - riding up and over her bellybutton to expose her nakedness as her arms extended over her head.

Joyce absentmindedly twirled the curly pubic hairs between her fingers. She always preferred to leave some foliage above her proudly protruding labia; aesthetically, she preferred it and had certainly never received any complaints. However, it had been at least a couple of weeks since she last groomed her nether regions, the resulting bush a little untamed for her liking. She mentally factored in the extra time she would need to prune her pussy fit for her skimpiest bikini.

She knew it would be a few hours before Chloe crawled out of bed. Add another hour to get ready, and Joyce estimated her friend wouldn't be at the beach before noon.

If Joyce were to move at her usual pace, she'd easily have her towel on the sand and factor 15 slathered head to toe by 10:00. As much as she enjoyed her own company, she decided it would be better to take her time this morning; to make the most of the day with her friend, rather than spend too much time alone and be ready to leave by the time Chloe joined her.

The morning warmth and her fingers massaging her crotch had left her slightly flushed. It was thirty-three days since her last sexual encounter (not that she was counting). Joyce's studies had kept her busy, and any free time available to her recently had been whittled away with friends, either in the local student bars or in secluded corners of parks with portable barbeques and supermarket-branded, pre-mixed cans of gin and tonic.

Such had been the hecticness of her schedule; Joyce realised it must've been two weeks since she even had a wank.

Joyce was stunningly beautiful. Petite, barely five foot tall, with shiny blonde hair falling below her shoulders. Much to the dismay of her friends - who either straightened or curled their locks to attain the look they desired - Joyce could jump out of bed and still receive the most glowing compliments.

Her bum was smaller and flatter than she would have desired, but what she lacked in the rear was more than compensated by her chest.

It wasn't that her breasts were huge; given her small stature, she was grateful. Her 32C tits simply fit her frame to perfection.

Naked, they stood firm and proud, shaped with a slight upward tilt by her pert and sensitive nipples, symmetrically encased by her large areolas.

On the rare occasions she applied makeup, she would apply colourful eyeshadow, accentuating her youthful skin. Her soft features gleaned an air of innocence which, whilst no prude, wasn't entirely misleading.

Joyce kneaded her breasts with her left hand while fondling her mound. Tweaking her nipples to hardness, she lowered her right hand over her clitoris and down her slit. Using her ring and index fingers to spread her ample lips apart, she ran her middle finger up and down her exposed vagina.

She felt the silky wetness of her arousal instantly. The delightful rush of blood her deftest touch sent coursing through her veins encouraged her to continue.

Joyce loved how her meaty lips absorbed every drop of moisture her pussy emitted. She enjoyed watching as - slick with her juices - they puffed up and spread apart of their own accord.

She delighted in agonisingly edging herself, battling the voices screaming inside her head to fill her desperate hole.

She teased her cunt by rubbing slow circles around her spongy entrance, admiring how her sticky juices strung between her pussy and her fingers, stretching up to her mouth as she tasted her sweet nectar.

It took all of her self-restraint to hold back at that moment, denying herself the release her attentions had her craving. She knew that her recent lack of sexual release had built up dangerously; her throbbing clit was already unable to withstand prolonged stimulation.

A perq Joyce had bestowed upon herself for locating, negotiating and organising all the legal formalities in securing their appartement was her sole and exclusive use of the shower room attached to her bedroom.

She called it her ensuite, not just because it sounded fancy, but also because it could be accessed from her bedroom. The only caveat was the second entrance off the main hallway, but this door remained almost permanently locked. Sharing the far more extensive, modernly equipped bathroom was no burden for Tom or Chloe, quietly agreeing that one less room to clean seemed a win-win.

Despite her self-pleasure hiatus, Joyce was the owner of two sex toys. Both had been gifts from Chloe to "cheer her up" soon after she and her boyfriend of five years split up. So soon, in fact, that despite Chloe's apparent outrage at the suggestion, Joyce still held suspicions that they may have been surplus hand-me-downs from Chloe's own collection. In any case, it hadn't stopped her from using them, nor enjoying multiple orgasms imagining where they might have been previously.

Joyce had quickly established the best home for her vibrating friends was alongside her soaps and shampoos in her private shower. She'd tried the bedside table and the underwear drawer but rarely found - or made - time to bring them out.

She showered daily, often twice, vibrators or otherwise. In her gloriously logistical mind, she had managed to turn pleasuring herself into a multitasking activity.

She hopped out of bed, pulling her t-shirt back over her chest. Chloe and Tom would still be sound asleep, so she wasn't concerned about what may be on display as she went to the kitchen for a glass of water before the long orgasmic shower she planned to enjoy.

As a most considerate flatmate, Joyce was conscious not to wake her friends even in her excitement. She knew her main bedroom door had a loud creak, which could disturb Tom or Chloe. Instead, she made her way through her "ensuite" door to her bathroom, and out the other side after quietly unlocking the door from the inside.

She skipped as quickly and quietly as she could in the kitchen, her tingling pussy aching to be touched, and drank thirstily directly from the tap.

Frog marching back to her bathroom, she gently eased the door and jumped in the shower cubicle.

Standing back while the water warmed up, Joyce briefly considered shaving first. Yet as the heat quickly rose, the glass panels steaming over, she sank to the floor, fucking her pussy, hard, the only thought in her mind.

She immediately picked up both toys. The purple vibrator she used to stimulate her clitoris turned to maximum power; the thick, eight-inch skin-coloured dildo thrust unceremoniously as deep as it could reach.

Joyce was fairly confident the rushing water of the shower would muffle her cries of pleasure. She certainly hoped so, her ability to stifle her moans deserting her as she worked her toys in unison to deliver an orgasm as epic as it was overdue.

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Tom cursed under his breath as he opened the front door; Joyce's running shower confirmed his fear of her being up early as usual, the "dirty stop out" taunts sure to follow.

As he trudged miserably down the hallway to the kitchen, he instinctively noticed the running water from Joyce's bathroom sounded louder than usual.

Just before he reached her door, a noise from within sent him jumping back in shock.

Worried for his friend's safety after hearing her bellowing wail, Tom approached, hand balled in a fist as he made to knock and check she was okay.

As his hand moved towards the wooden door, he noticed it wasn't fully closed.

Joyce never left the door unlocked, let alone open.

Tom felt the adrenaline elevating his heart rate as he nervously crept the door open another inch to peep into the room, expecting to lay eyes on the gruesome murder of his childhood friend.

He made no sound, fearful of alerting the intruder, the evil, ruthless attacker of pretty young showering women, to his presence.

That thought rushed from his mind when he saw Joyce's twitching feet through a gap in the condensated cubicle.

He stepped further into the room and sank to his knees, trying to protect her dignity even as he knew he had to save her life.

Another moan.

Movement.

Oh. Ohhh. Realisation and relief washed over him. Tom laughed under his breath. Thank fuck. She wasn't being attacked. She was giving herself a damn good seeing-to.

And holy fuck, was it hot.

Tom had always had a bit of a crush on Joyce. Aside from her being gorgeous, they had been close friends since before they were teenagers.

They knew each other intimately, yet were not, and had never been, intimate. Tom cared for their friendship more than to ever risk making a move on her, even if she wasn't some substantial way out of his league.

It dawned on him that all of the sexual fantasies he'd ever had about her were an insult, a travesty, unworthy of reflecting this mythical creature. Her body, smooth and soft, hot water cascading over every curve with luscious grace, was a sight more glorious than anything he ever imagined.

His penis was instantly erect, straining against his jeans as he sat watching; her mouth slightly agape, her chest heaving, her thighs clenching around her thick prosthetic penis. She released another sigh of delight as she orgasmed again right in front of his eyes. Arms and legs collapsing in a satisfied heap, she lay under the pounding showerhead for a moment before sliding the dildo out of her gaping pussy, her pulsating clit spared further attention as a quick flick of her vibrator brought it to a static silence.

Before Tom could move, Joyce was on her feet.

Fear once more coursed through his body, this time at the prospect of her catching him spying on her masturbating. He had only entered with genuine concern but had been rooted to the stop as he basked in her private display of sensuality.

Frozen once more, he was convinced she would step out of the shower to find him seated, hard as a rock, eyes locked on the tiles her dripping snatch had just moments prior adorned.

To his surprise, the shower kept running. Joyce replaced her toys amongst her more typical shower items, sitting back down, this time with her back flat against the wall and her legs bent at the knee, spread wide apart. He continued to stare as she lathered a soapy coating over her mass of pubic hair. By the time her razor removed the first strip, Tom had his cock in his hand, uncontrollably thumping back and forth.

Joyce had barely removed half of her bush when Tom erupted into his hand with a muted grunt. His hand only helped in splattering his semen all over her bathroom. He tucked his member back inside his jeans, quickly attempting to wipe his mess from every surface while trying to remain undetected.

A sudden wave of shame was added to Tom's fear. He knew, however hot, that he had severely intruded and had to leave immediately if he didn't wish to be caught.

He just hoped he hadn't missed any errant gloops of spunk.

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Joyce watched Tom creep back out of her bathroom. The moment the door returned to barely ajar, she threw aside her razor and buried her fingers inside her sopping cunt.

She had heard the front door click shut when he returned home. A split second later, she gasped in panic as she realised she hadn't just not locked, but hadn't even closed the door via the hallway.

Tom was barely in the hall when she gasped again, loudly this time, as her already rapturous orgasm was compounded with the thrill of being caught in the act.

Even as she had continued working her toys over and inside herself, her brain inexplicably looped the same thought: Please, come in and watch. Come and watch me fuck my pussy, Tom!

Her second orgasm was inevitable when she realised she had his undivided attention.

Joyce had always had a bit of a thing for Tom but, being as close as they were, had always deemed him off-limits.

After seeing his long, smooth shaft in his hand, its clean-cut, bulbous head pulsating as he spurted ropes of ejaculate everywhere, she wondered if it might be time that categorisation changed.