On the Three Days of Birthday...
Chapter 3: A Watched Clock Never Boils
Jennifer sat on one of her high stools, her right elbow on the kitchen counter, her right hand under her chin, staring at the SARAH... then up at her wall clock... then back at the SARAH. Her left hand held a cup of cold coffee, which she sipped without thinking. This, though she needed caffeine right now like she needed a yacht, as even without it, she was already so wired her insides felt like they were quivering.
Then she looked at the clock again. 7:48 PM... about five minutes to go.
Her normal laconic Saturday afternoon, after her first session in the SARAH, had become a happy nightmare. After deciding on self-denial, she’d realized she’d have to distract herself somehow, as otherwise she’d never make it. The first order of business had been to take off her sweaty, juice-soaked pajamas, and get cleaned up. That meant a shower, and also meant, as she realized after she’d started it, touching herself.
She’d done her best, however, to complete her primary objective... making herself clean and fresh smelling before she went out on her self-splurge shopping spree. But while concentrating on the task at hand, twice she’d forgotten to concentrate on her hands, themselves.
Once, the soapy things had found her breasts while she was thinking about Ariel, thinking there was something just the tiniest bit familiar about her, despite her golden mask. The next thing she’d known, she’d been closing her eyes and swaying in the stream of hot water, her slick fingers massaging and pulling at her tits and nipples, remembering exactly how Ariel had worked lotion into them, and how that had made her arch and juice and so very aroused....
Only just managing to catch herself then, and stop, Jennifer had tried doing what she’d heard guys try to do... think about baseball, or the like.
As she didn’t know much about baseball, and as the Olympics had just ended, she’d tried thinking about some of those sports as she’d continued to wash herself. Beach volleyball had been an instant loser, for all the obvious, and hot, reasons. Gymnastics had quickly followed it into the mental dumpster, as Jennifer had found herself imagining the female gymnasts in their tight, colorful outfits, with their lithe, firm bodies, calling to her... opening up to her....
She’d managed to stop herself again, before doing any “damage”, but had wondered why she was thinking about the female athletes in those events. Normally, when she fantasized in the shower, she thought about the guys.
But not today. Without specifically trying to, she’d been thinking about the women.
Next had come her attempts to think about swimming—seeing them undulating and stroking so strongly in the water, so well-toned in their tight, clingy swimsuits, the ones they’d crammed their smooth, athletic bodies into, the suits, like her one at the beach, that could be pulled down, then up, then back down over their soft, excited breasts again and again before finally being removed so their damp pussies were exposed and ready to be....
Luckily or not, she’d almost fallen over in the shower (which probably would have cracked her skull open), which helped her realize she had a finger from one hand sliding in and out of her wet sex, and a finger from the other toying with her anus. She’d yelled at the plastic walls, her need even worse than before she’d started to clean up.
She’d really wanted to hold on, though, and to wait for the next session before she came. So, in desperation, she’d slapped the water to full cold, then gasped and screamed the lust out of her for the next 30 seconds, until all the soap was gone from her freezing skin.
Toweling off had not been such a problem, as she’d done it quickly and rather harshly.
Then she’d continued with her planned activities... getting dressed and heading off to the mall, hoping for a tough drive to distract her from her relentlessly libidinous thoughts.
The fates hadn’t been smiling on her, though, and the drive had been a cakewalk of green lights and courteous drivers. She’d flipped on the FM, only to be greeted by The Doors singing “Touch Me”....
Come on, come on, come on, come onNow touch me, babyCan’t you see, that I am not afraid?What was that promise that you made?Why wont you tell me what she said?
“She said for me to wait!” Jennifer had yelled at the radio, and then shut the damned thing off.
The mall, itself, had been okay. She’d gotten some new towels, eaten some Wendy’s chicken tenders at the food court, and checked out some new video games at Best Buy. It was only when she’d made her annual birthday pilgrimage to Fredrick’s that things got bad again.
She’d been trying to decide what new undies to buy... what style, color, and fabric... and feeling the tingles starting to build again, when a salesperson had tapped her on the shoulder, saying, “Can I help you with anything?”
She’d been startled when Jennifer had jumped about a foot into the air.
Apparently, the entire cosmos had been in cahoots to make her crazy, as, even while the clerk... an older, attractive, well-endowed woman... was apologizing profusely for having surprised her, said woman had also been giving her the eye (or so it had seemed to Jennifer). The smiling salesperson had also started saying things like, “You’ll look so sexy in these panties, I think”, and “You’ll love how these bra and panties feel on you, dear... so incredibly soft and comfortable”, as she’d led Jennifer around the store.
You’re overreacting... you’re overreacting. Those are perfectly normal comments! she’d thought as she headed for the changing room with a handful of delicious-feeling lingerie, the clerk close behind. But the woman’s whispered, “Just let me know if you want any help trying things on,” had left no doubts about her interests, and had left Jennifer to stand in the small dressing room, quaking in arousal.
It had all seemed so surreal. Two days before, if she’d even noticed the older woman’s come-on, it would’ve just grossed her out a little, probably. But today...?
Today, and as horny as she’d been, she’d actually had to struggle with herself not to ask the woman to come into the changing room to “help” her.
There’d been no way she was getting completely undressed, or doing anything involving her own breasts. She couldn’t try on the panties, either, as even slipped over her own, as wet as she was, they wouldn’t be “new” anymore, if she decided she didn’t want to buy them.
So Jennifer had settled for taking off her blouse and making sure the two nighties she wanted were “close enough”. The bras and panties, though rather risqué, were her sizes... no-underwire, tanga-style, pink and black silk combos... so she’d just decided to purchase them and be done with it.
Just her luck, though, the same clerk had decided to literally, as well as figuratively, check her out, and had been standing behind the register and smiling as she rang up each item. She’d stared at Jennifer, and at her breasts, saying things like, ”Anyone would enjoy seeing you in these nighties, honey!”, her words keeping the “home fires” burning strongly within Jennifer’s mind and loins.
Frankly, if the attractive saleswoman had taken her by the hand and tried to lead her into the back room again, Jennifer would have gone. And that thought both scared and excited her now, as she realized, despite today’s “troubles”, she enjoyed being this aroused, and that it made her feel so good to be tottering on the sexual edge like this.
The rest of the day had become a blur. She’d watched a bunch of stuff she’d recorded on her DVR... cartoons and light comedy, basically... done the dishes, gone out for a two-mile walk, made herself some mac-and-cheese, and otherwise just counted the minutes until Session # 2. She’d also tried not to hate herself for being so obviously needy and curious.
She’d debated what to wear for her upcoming trip inside the box, too, changing clothes three times before finally settling on her newest purchases... the pink silk bra and panties combo, and one of her new nighties. She knew she’d feel like a fool if this session turned into something out of the movie “Brainstorm”, with her sitting in the driver’s seat of a big rig as it plummeted over a mountainous embankment.
That would be scary cool, she knew, but it wasn’t what she wanted at all, or what she’d denied herself all day for.
She glanced at the clock again... 7:51 PM. Jennifer knew, in extremis, she could wait another half-hour or so. She also knew she probably should, lest the R & D department see how obviously eager she was to crawl back into the SARAH.
Yes... waiting past the minimum deadline would be the smart thing to do, certainly.
Fuck what they think, though, she thought, her pussy sending her mind and body its relentless, tormenting signals as she stood and moved to the door of the SARAH. Wet again, and no longer caring about anything but her own arousal, Jennifer watched the timer count down the seconds until she could enter her virtual dream world again.
5... 4... 3... 2... 1... You may enter the SARAH-3000 now....
Pushing “Session”, and then button #2, Jennifer did just that.