It made me want to follow my own path and do what I felt like doing.
Moving down my hands down body and back up my legs, it came time to wash my lower region, something that had always held an odd type of tension. I knew it needed to be done, while ever conscious of the effects that could be caused by even the lightest friction on my pussy or clit. I was really sensitive, and sometimes even a light gust breeze, while I was naked, was capable of making me moan.
Bracing a hand against the wall like I had before, I touched myself, running my fingers along my tender pink lips. The tensions were rising up inside me. I spread my lips, letting the water get at me, before gently massaging them in a slow circular motion.
A long moan escaped me before I could stop it. Ordinarily, I would have clamped my hand over my mouth, mildly shamed, and worried that someone would hear. That Augustus, my new roommate, might hear.
At that moment, though, I officially stopped caring. My notion that pleasure was okay and, if anything, was created by God for us to enjoy, was quickly becoming a full-fledged conviction.
I started going faster, plunging two fingers into my aching pussy, vocalizing openly as I worked myself to orgasm. It was a rebellion, I suppose. Though, more than that, it was a reclamation. A way of saying my body and my life were my own and not for anyone else to be compromised.
I thought of Augustus and went back to wishing he could take my virginity. As I imagined him holding my ass cheeks and squeezing them while he put his cock all the way inside me, I came. I was so happy I cried. Gentle tears were rolling down my cheeks as my body shook with sweet release.
After my shower, swaddled in my robe, still gloriously naked beneath, I pushed two PopTarts down into the eight-slice toaster that came with the kitchen. It was an instance of flagrant excess that would surely turn my father’s face red. I smiled at the image while waiting for the time to tick down.
Despite having always been taught to eat at the table, ‘like a proper lady,’ I damn well kept doing as I pleased now, taking my plate of processed, sugary goodness into the living room and sitting down on the couch, fully intending to watch something on the flat screen TV hanging unobtrusively on the wall.
Neither Dad nor I had noticed it when I moved in. I wasn’t sure about Dad, but I’d taken it as some kind of post-modernist painting, commenting on the void, as well as the obvious nod to Yves Klein.
My very selective powers of observation also made it so that I’d completely missed the sheaf of paper on the coffee-table. It was partly covered by the plate. The pages were held together with a staple in the upper left-hand corner, just like the notes that Augustus had given me.
Of course they were! What else did I think? Some invisible tutor had broken in, slipped in during the dead of night and placed a fucking study guide on the table, right where I would see it in the morning?
I blushed at my mental profanity. It was another step in my reclamation process. I had no intention of becoming a potty-mouth or someone with a dirty mind. Though it was a relief to know I could use such words, even mentally, when and where they were called for, there being some situations, usually involving absurdity, pain, or terror, when only cuss words would do.
When the initial shock wore off, it was replaced by a sense of wonder, coupled with confusion. Even after our last meeting and my obvious efforts at avoiding him, Augustus still went out of his way to try and help me. I wondered for the moment how he knew I was having trouble before remembering the online discussion group.
I knew I hadn’t done well, hardly coming up with the bare minimum in terms of comments. I wasn’t happy about it. I’d always prided myself on being a good student but that had only been in areas I knew.
The curriculum at Convent school was not really very broad when it came right down to it. Of course, they were pretty traditional. Most of the girls graduating from there expected to become wives and mothers, with no aspirations for careers outside the home.
Moved by forces unseen, which could have come either from my Lord or his, I stood straight up and marched to Augustus’s room. I was hellbent on having it out with him. I knew almost for a fact that I’d misjudged him and had the sneaking suspicion he had done the same with me.
We had to talk if we were going to have any chance of a co-habituation that wasn’t extremely awkward, with the two of us constantly tiptoeing around each other. He had made the first move. It was only right that I try and reply.