Wednesday Morning: Four Days After the Anniversary.
Annie worked the bullet against her clit, starting to push uncomfortably hard into her folds to get a little more buzz from it. It didn't help that her left hand wasn't quite as dexterous as her right, or that she been frigging her ever needier pussy every day since a hard go on Saturday with Sam.
She'd even stunned herself on Sunday when she slipped two fingers deep inside herself while getting off in the shower after everyone was in bed. She'd snickered out loud when she looked too long at a particularly narrow bottle of conditioner before going back to touching herself like she was a teenager again.
"Geez An, get a grip," she chided herself as a new 'brain-bubble' popped, and gave her a better idea.
So it came to be that by Wednesday, with everyone out of the house, and a modified-schedule workday, she was browsing for new sex toys online at 10 a.m. while she brought herself close to getting off over and over again. It wasn't like it was the first time she'd looked at this kind of thing, or bought a toy.
Everyone had them, whether husbands knew it or not, and Sam was supportive if not encouraging. He had even bought her 'first' one along with a terrible porno about Egyptian sex gods or some such. He didn't know it wasn't her first, but he had pretty good, and very 'safe' taste.
Shopping online made it easier and better of course, though even before her recent renaissance she'd been vaguely excited by the exoticism and taboo of those weird places where she'd been to buy gags for bachelorette parties and sorority hijinks. Her head always felt a little light in those shops, like warning and curiosity lights were flashing her into a daze.
She also had the powerful, confounding memories of one of her college roommates using a dildo. That "toy" was pretty primitive by today's standards, and probably not as big as it seemed then. Ashley Amber was pretty careful and quiet about using it, but after sharing a room and a lot of secrets for a few years it became an object of considerable concern before she graduated and moved in with Sam.
Annie had the bad luck of having an eight a.m. dance class every Wednesday the fall of her senior term. She loved dance though, and it was the only available slot that didn't conflict with requisite courses for her major. Ashley, on the other hand, had nothing whatsoever and stayed out late with the girls a couple times a month.
Ashley was a sweetheart and whether mildly buzzed, three sheets to the wind, or baked into a stupor, she endeavored to be as quiet as a mouse. It was made somewhat easier by virtue of Ash being a tiny girl. She was only a little over five feet, a super cute brunette, and a runner. She was healthy, but Annie and the gang called her 'Triple A' (Amazing Ashley Amber) because of her high-energy personality in a small package.
As such, in the third or fourth week of the semester, Annie had been sound asleep for a few hours when she was stirred by Ashley's return. Try as she might not to make a sound, the girl was clearly a little too inebriated to fulfill her good intentions.
Triple A dropped her keys. She fell over when she was taking her jeans off. She let the door slam when she went to wash up and gasped "Sorry!" as she ran back and opened and closed the door for no reason again.
Annie had to laugh as she rolled over and pulled the covers up. At her worst, Triple A was a goof. She was such a sweetheart that it was hard to get annoyed with her.
When Ashley returned, Annie was still trying to fall back to sleep. Annie could hear her rummaging around in her drawers for something and then the soft creak of Ashley climbing in the low-loft bed across the room.
Between their beds were their two desks, but with the advent of laptops, there wasn't much obstructing their line of sight with each other. In fact, with different schedules and interests, the most time the roommates spent together was talking to each other from their respective beds late at night or while taking in some TV.
Here and there Ash would scramble down and sit on Annie's bed, or even climb in with her if they were talking about something intensely, or watching a movie. Annie didn't mind, or think much of it. Triple A was warm with everybody; a hugger and a talker by nature, and it complimented Annie's more reserved nature well.
Once or twice they'd even fallen asleep together and she'd find Ash curled up next to her. Triple A dated a lot (and had an on again/off again, long distance romance with a boy back home), had a lot of friends, and was pretty busy, but she was often homesick for California. Sometimes Annie thought Ashley just felt a little lonesome, and that as her roommate, it was Annie's duty to provide a touch of TLC.
Just as Annie was starting to doze, she heard Ashley's loft start to creak again, quietly, but erratically. She was starting to get a little miffed, but knew her mate was just buzzed and probably trying to settle herself. Then the creaking became a little more steady, and the rustling of sheets a little louder. Then there was the mild squeak of the metal frame. Then a few strange sounds from Ash.
Annie rolled back over and looked through the soft darkness. She could faintly see Ashley's slight form in the oversized t-shirt she often wore to bed. Her back was to Annie, but it looked like she was wrapped around her blankets rather than under them. The pint-sized woman looked like she was rocking back and forth.
For a moment, Annie thought her friend was crying and sat up, ready to check in. Then she heard Ash inhale deeply, and exhale unevenly. Her roommate also seemed to writhe now more than rock, and Annie could more clearly see that Ash's night shirt was bunched up around her waist.
"Oh, gosh!" Annie thought to herself. If the lights had been on she would be seen as beet red. Her roommate was getting off, but she knew the only one more embarrassed than her would be Ash if she knew she'd seen her.
Annie dropped back down to her pillow. Ashley must've heard, because she stopped moving for a moment, then turned to lie flat on her back, before peeking over at Annie.
Their eyes met.
Though it was dark, Annie could see Ash's big brown eyes quite clearly. They were bright but glassy, dreamy, but intentioned. Annie thought she saw Ash bite her lip. She was locked into her roommate's gaze when Ashley spread her legs open and began undulating slowly but strongly, her hands busy down between them.
It wasn't a big room, so it wasn’t clear whether Annie was hot because Ash was actually increasing the temperature, or her own body reacted to the stimulation of the situation. It was clear that she could smell her roommate’s arousal and hear a more distinct, perverse sound - the muffled sound of something rhythmically tapping against flesh wasn't made by Triple A's hands. Annie didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or bolt. She knew what it had to be, but it was unbelievable. She couldn't move, even to hide from Ashley's surreal stare of lust.
And was it lust? Was she looking at her because she wanted something? Was Ash a lesbian? Just a crazy drunk?
As Annie resolved to pretend her friend wasn't putting on some kind of erotic exhibition for her, Ashley's face changed. Her brows furrowed and her lips parted. It looked to Annie like she was... pleading?
Annie never forgot that look, at least what she thought she saw. Ashley 's eyes darted down to look between her own legs and back. It was as if she was pleading to Annie, "Do you see what's happening here? Help me!"
Squirming in earnest now, Annie opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came to her. Mercifully, Ash finally closed her eyes. It was like someone covered a nightlight to Annie; she could only vaguely make out her roommate's shuddering body gripped by a hard orgasm. Triple A mewed something and rolled back over. The trance broken, Annie lay very still.
Was she furious? Was she flattered? What the fuck just happened?!?
She squeezed her legs together a few times. She tossed, turned, and tucked a small pillow between her legs. A fitful night of sleep passed.
At 6:00 a.m. Annie silently slipped out to the showers. She felt like she could breathe for the first time and was grateful to have class to take her mind off Ashley's pervy antics.
It was bright enough in their room when she re-entered later that morning that she could inspect the scene. Ashley was still asleep, snoring actually. Annie couldn't resist peeking over the loft at her, lying face down, naked, pert butt hanging out of her shirt. From the look of her, you'd just figure she had a typical Triple A Tuesday night... except for the dayglow green dildo on the sheet next to her.
It looked absurd, obscene. A fluorescent, seven inch, jelly cock, complete with half-balls. And awfully thick for a petite woman! How could she enjoy something like that? How did it even fit?
Annie wasn't a prude (was she?) and she certainly didn't object to sex toys or anyone's sexual orientation for that matter. But the whole thing was crass, and a little less than discrete, right? For the love of god, that thing was still glistening from its sordid work hours earlier
"Gross, gross!" thought Annie. Still, it was confusing.
Ashley really was sweet and cool. She wasn't some SWF creep. She possessed a carefree sense of self that Annie adored. She was also pretty and feminine, not that it should matter. But she was a lot like Annie - a modern girl, a modern woman of the '90s. She dressed up for formals, wore jeans and sported ponytails most days, and her workout clothes and sweats took up half her drawers. She talked about guys and sex with guys- the "Triple A" moniker was sealed by Ash's sexual affinity for a muscle-bound wrestler named Triple H after all. And she didn't talk about sex obsessively like some girls, or in any way that made her seem like she was in the closet.
And having made a few gay and queer friends, Annie learned a lot about what was normal in school, or maybe learned that there was no normal for straight, gay and everyone in between.
Maybe Ash is just a closet exhibitionist? Maybe she just had a 'horndog moment', as Sam described them?
Oh, and there's no way she's going to tell him about this.
Why did she watch?
Annie shut it out of her mind. In the weeks that followed, some awkwardness lingered for the girls. Annie was too nice and Ashley too warm for it to be uncomfortable for long though. One day, Ash walked in the room, put her bag down, placed her hands on her hips and frowned at her friend.
When Annie smiled in return, Triple A bounced over and gave her the biggest hug her little frame could muster. "I'm sorry," said Ashley, her big brown eyes welling up with palpable relief.
"Me too," replied Annie. She held her friend's hand and they both laughed. The roomies enjoyed a normal lunch talking about their plans for their last Thanksgiving in school. Ashley always stayed at school and Annie always went home for the holiday. Both were relieved to resolve their tension before Annie left.
Oddly enough, with the tension gone, Tuesday nights settled into weirdly comfortable rituals. A sort of symbiosis underneath their existing friendship. The girls were especially close; inseparable, really, after class and at dinner every Tuesday evening.
After studying and doing coursework together, Annie would get ready for bed and Ashley would get ready to go out with friends. When Ashley was ready to go, the girls would hug and wish each other goodnight, something they kind of did from time to time before, but now became routine.
With Triple A out the door, Annie would masturbate like clockwork before going to sleep using a clunky, cheap (and noisy) vibrator she's had for a while but hadn't used much since Sam moved off campus. She'd wake up around 1:00 a.m. when Ashley came in, usually sober now that finals were approaching. And just like counter-clockwork, she'd hear Triple A's drawer open, her bed creak, a soft rhythmic tapping, heavy breathing, and a little mew of pleasure.
She didn't watch. Neither did Ash look at her. They didn't have to. It was their unspoken, inexplicable, secret thing. And it carried on happily the next semester, except on Thursday nights, right up until graduation, with a little less regularity and one big crescendo.
There were a few occasions where Annie, in a fit of her own horndog moments, fished out Ashley's toy, felt its weight and ran her hands on it. She'd been getting really hot and heavy with Sam around this time, and exploring each other without the constraints of college living now that he had his own place. For some reason, that confidence carried over to the "thing". Too much confidence, really.
On the last of those occasions, a week before the girls moved out, she brought the surreal fluorescent cock up to her lips, inhaled, and sucked on it while she rubbed herself to orgasm. She couldn't explain it then (or ever) but it overcame her and felt so good ...and was immediately regretted.
In the hyper-rational thought that followed her orgasm, she started to panic. How could she? Did she just violate Ashley's privacy? She had to clean it now, but with what? Would Ash notice?
"Shit, shit!" she whispered with no one around.
In retrospect, sitting on her couch in her mid-thirties, about to cum as she browsed dozens of sex toys online, what ensued was a hilarious operation of epic proportion. A plot no one knew, the perfect "crime" to smuggle her roommate's fake dong to the kitchen to wash it in a closed pot with an elaborate backstory about burning caramel that no one asked for or cared about, and certainly was unnecessary given that she realized at the sink (sweating like a drug smuggler), it all could've been done in the friggin' shower!
No one thought of Annie that way. Nor did they think of Ashley that way. They were the sweet girls. The smarty-pants, good girls who were going to marry nice guys and get a minivan one day. And that was partially true and nothing to be ashamed of.
But it was also true, Annie recalled all these years later, that when Triple A came home that night, their happy secret reached its zenith, and that nobody would ever suspect it from them was an odd point of pride.
There was an extra pause in their ritual that night. In all her fluster, Annie forgot where she'd found the thing. She'd never be sure, but Ash must've known she moved it, looked at it, maybe thought she'd even tried it.
Annie saw her friend's outline at her dresser daintily search for what she craved. However, instead of climbing into bed when she found it, Ash took her night shirt off and turned on a small nightlight. She turned towards Annie and took a few shy steps.
Annie didn't pretend to be asleep. She was at once anxious and excited. Ash wouldn't scold her. Their bond was far past that now. But she wasn't sure what would happen.
And her friend looked gorgeous; they'd never actually seen each other totally naked like this. Ash's narrow, muscled, tan body looked so strong in the faint light, her small breasts high and proud, with hard nipples, darker and longer than Annie's. Her neatly groomed bush was just visible too. It looked darker than Annie's, almost exotic.
"Hi," whispered Ashley.
"Hi," laughed Annie nervously.
"I just... I'm going to miss you, An." Ash sounded so meek, even as she was standing there naked as the day is long, holding a dildo behind her back.
Maybe it should have felt weird or sexy or gross or funny. But it was tender. Insane, but heartfelt and totally right.
"Me too," said Annie, sitting up, drawing her knees close.
Ash turned around but looked over her shoulder until she climbed into her loft. She was going to show her roommate what she wanted her to see so badly, as openly as they both could handle. How they'd arrived here didn't matter. Why didn't matter.
Ash propped herself against the wall, and Annie did the same so that they faced each other. The nightlight was only so bright and months of their shared habit had lowered their guard with each other, so when Annie slipped her shorts off and took her vibrator out neither was self-conscious.
Then Ash proceeded to slowly, methodically work the dildo into her tight pussy as she opened her legs for her roommate to see. She must've been really wet, because she didn't stop to lubricate, she just pushed and pulled a centimeter at a time, breathing hard, then groaning louder than she had allowed in all their Tuesday and Thursday nights before.
Annie was meant to hear it, and pushed her clunky plastic vibrator against herself in approval. The buzzing sound, which always annoyed her before, was a boon now. It was like her counter verse to her girlfriend’s quietly outrageous toy. She strained to see Triple A better, as the smaller woman huffed and puffed, carefully, but insistently pushing herself further until she could rock on her knees and straddle the toy.
"I love being stretched, An..." she panted. "It just feels really good, like I'm... ooough, so full. Like I'm turning on a big wall of light switches all at once." Ash started rocking with her full body on the toy now, leaning forward to hold the bedrails, pausing only to adjust the toy inside her.
Annie couldn't see her friend's pussy wrapping around the fake cock anymore, but she could see that same, desperate, lust-addled face she saw at the beginning. Beads of sweat made her bright face glisten in the blue darkness. Annie found her own body reaching its limits as she thrust her own pussy up to meet the rattling plastic.
"Oh god," Annie breathed.
"Mmmnneh, yesss..." Ashley groaned and hissed. Then she rolled on her back like a cat and thrust the cock into herself with shocking speed, and made a low, guttural sound Annie wouldn't think possible.
It was all too much for Annie and she saw stars as she came several times, like those bursts and crackles of fireworks inside fireworks. Triple A, fed by her private audience, was propelled into her own little supernova, grunting through near-painful waves of pleasure.
When the air cleared, Ash limped over to her dresser. Still shaking, she put on her shirt and collapsed next to Annie. Annie wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, amazed by her heat. They both snickered before Ashley pronounced them both crazy and deemed their boyfriends lucky guys.
That brought Annie down to Earth. And a few things crossed her mind.
For one, it wasn't cheating, but she still felt guilty. She and her friend were playing with themselves. It may have been together, but still, it wasn't romantic or anything like hooking up. It would be too hard to explain to Sam. Guys wouldn't understand at all. At best, he'd think it was hot and fill his head with threesome fantasies. At worst... no, that was pretty much the only likely reaction. It was the '90s after all. But she felt bad that she'd keep it from him.
Second, she'd adored Triple A. They had shared something between two women that felt special, feminine, peculiar and particular. She didn't want to pull too hard on that thread, it was just crazy and great, and over. Her amazing roomie...
Who third, fit all that inside her... How did she do it? Did it really feel that good?
****************************
Wrapping up on memory lane, Annie laughed at the ridiculousness of that green, rubbery, and totally unreal-looking 'thing'. Well, unrealistic wasn't so bad. Maybe realistic was a bridge too far, for now. Yeah, definitely too far. There were much better options that could solve Triple A's mysteries, replete with bells and whistles.
Maybe she should get to the bottom of it. Maybe she could tug that thread just a little bit. She put her top choices in her online basket and finally let herself cum hard before she fell asleep.
