From redloon@hotmail.com Wed May 14 06:42:08 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: * budding sensuality, mf -- young college virgin From: bespeckled loon <redloon@hotmail.com> Date: Wed, 14 May 1997 06:42:08 -0400 -------- This is the first part in a series of stories which have fermented recently in my mind... there's no twisted sex at this point, but that may eventually develop. Keep reading to see. ;) Copyright retained, please don't repost or archive this or any following stories without specifically contacting me to discuss your plans. I welcome any comments and/or constructive criticism. Enjoy! -------------- Unclothed, and shivering slightly as the fan directed outside air to caress her skin, Oriana stood determinedly beside her bed. Muscles rippled along her narrow frame as she unconsciously clenched her fists and tightened her shoulders. Painful knots worsened, and tension began to accumulate in a crescent along her brow. The beginnings of a headache finally awakening her to her own self-torture, Oriana strode to the corner of her small dormitory room and unrolled a pale green yoga mat. She stepped onto its slightly sticky surface and faced the mirror before her. A mass of dark auburn hair encircled a freckled, strong-boned face, pale and serious. A graceful, lean neck led to wiry shoulders and a gently protruding collar bone. Small breasts with nipples erect from the room's chill jutted out proudly above a smooth belly and narrow waist. And here the mirror's range reached its lower boundary. Oriana stared into a reflection of her own stark blue eyes, tired and a bit vacant due to the stresses of exam week. Damn her timing! She had finally persuaded Cory to stop by her room and talk for a while. He had comfortably sprawled across her bed, green eyes sparking as he animatedly debated the accuracy and origin of Anaximander's philosophical views, arguing for a very generous interpretation of the few intact fragments of his writing. She had felt intellectual and physical energy surge within her this evening for the first time in who knows how long, and had played devil's advocate to Cory's stance until his factual base overcame her knowledge of the subject. Declaring a truce until such time that she could run over to the library to read up on Anaximander's supposed theory of evolution, Oriana grinned and clasped Cory's hand in laughing formality. Such beautiful hands he had. Long, straight fingers, shiny nails, neatly trimmed. And a firm handshake, too; strong but considerate. Her inner self gasped, but Oriana limited that expression to her mind. Regretfully removing her hand from his, Oriana turned to her computer to hide whatever silly expression may have formed on her face. After maximizing her Netscape window she typed in the URL for the university library, under the guise of searching for an appropriate information source with which to frame a rebuttal to his arguments. Cory stood and stepped behind her chair, resting his hands upon her shoulders as he gazed at the screen. Once again Oriana had to restrain herself from audibly expelling her breath, and she slapped her thoughts, directing them by brute force to the task at hand. Entering an author search, she answered the query, "Anaximander," and pressed return. As the browser connected to the library server and paused while waiting for a reply, Cory began to gently knead her shoulders. Oriana gave up her resistance as useless and urged him to continue, relaxing into the careful motions of his hands. "You can press harder, you know." "Tough girl, eh?" he teased. "You're amazingly tense. It might take more pressure to get you comfortable and relaxed. Willing to put up with a little pain for best results?" Oriana flushed a bit and muttered in reply, "Sure, try me." Obligingly his hands increased their therapeutic pressure, thumbs seeking out knots and tense areas. She sighed in thanks, and slipped once more into appreciative silence and concentration. His hands were evoking odd sensations from her body, ones she was intently enjoying. She imagined his fingertips wandering to her neck, tracing an imaginary line from behind her ear to her shoulder, lingering upon her breast, her navel, circling lazily before diving under the waistline of her restrictive jeans... "Cory!" shouted a voice from the hall. "Are you in there?" Cory cursed under his breath before calling out, "Yeah, Jamie, I'm here." His hands paused on her shoulders as he explained in his normal, quiet voice, "I promised to help Jamie with her linear algebra homework tonight. Sorry, I'd forgotten until now. Dan probably told her where I was when she arrived at our room." At this point Oriana, generally one to abstain from swearing, was ready to curse at both Jamie and Dan, Cory's roommate. She had been startled from semi-imagined ecstasy into the unpleasantly real dormitory world at the sound of her friend's voice. Not a fun transition. But she composed her expression into a small and authentic smile, and turned in her chair, facing up at Cory. "How about promising to finish this massage to make up for the interruption?" she requested wryly. "After mid-terms are over, of course. I'll probably need it even more by then!" "Gladly. I'll even see if I can find my massage book. I took a class in it a few semesters ago, but have forgotten most of the strokes. You look up philosophy, and I'll research massage technique. Bargain?" he asked. "Bargain." Oriana stood, shook Cory's hand once again, and watched silently as he slung his bookbag over his shoulder and left the room. After he closed the door behind him she waited for a few minutes. She then looked out the peek hole before exploding, "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn! I've been trying every night for the past several months to reach an orgasm, and the mere touch of Cory's hands managed to accomplish more than the diligent efforts of my fingers during all that time. It felt so damn good! And man, imagination plus sensation, what a pair!" She gloried for a moment in the recollection of the feeling of his fingers grazing her neck and kneading her shoulders. "But then Jamie had to interrupt, with her lousy linear algebra. Nasty stuff. Why does Cory have to be so brilliant and helpful all of the time?" Of course that was part of his allure, her thoughts replied, mocking her one-sided conversation. Switching back into impatience mode, Oriana roughly stripped herself of clothing, shoving T-shirt, jeans, and undergarments into the laundry bag in the closet. She then strode to her bed, and stared at it impatiently. Home to her many unsuccessful attempts as self pleasure. Her reflection upon the events of the evening thus brought her back to her reflection in the mirror. Slightly quieted through their repetition, she shifted into mountain pose. Bare feet shoulder-width apart, arms resting at her sides, body in easy balance, she closed her eyes and began to count her breaths, working to establish a steady calm before once again attempting to create an erotic storm... To be continued...