My roommate is gone

As usual, the room was empty. After tossing my bags onto my bed, I hurried down to the cafeteria before it closed. There were a few other girls here at the back table who were apparently chatting about the latest gossip. I grabbed one of the remaining cold sandwiches and something that looked like a bowl of applesauce, then took a seat at another table. Spread across two tables were sections of today's paper. From the weather page, it looked like there was a small heat wave due over the next several days, with highs in the upper 80s. That was rather unusual for mid-September in this part of the country. The job section had a few openings that sounded interesting, and I jotted them down on a napkin for further consideration.

Loud laughing from the other girls broke my concentration. I'd lost track of their conversation several minutes ago, but apparently I'd missed something really funny. With the paper read, and my plate emptied, I took the opportunity to duck out. Back in the room, I took a few minutes to remove the tags from my new clothes and prepared them for the laundry. I always washed new clothes after once getting a rash from some new garments. As I detagged them, I spent a few moments to admire each of my new purchases. I really looked forward to wearing them.

With a few more hours before bedtime, I grabbed my laptop and reclined on my bed. After checking my e-mail, I decided to see what those folder names meant. The urban dictionary explained that "A2M" meant Ass to Mouth. while some other sites explained that "NiP" referred to Nude in Public. I bet I could shock Jake by trying to work one of those into a conversation, but then again that might give away that I'd seen these folders.

I clicked open the NiP folder and took yet another look at the brave and beautiful women in various public places. Did they know that their daring acts might one day serve as an inspiration for someone like me? Were there other girls out there that felt the way I do? Maybe I was unique. Was this feeling due to being repressed by a such a strict dress code for all of my life? These questions briefly swirled in my head as I advanced through the gallery of images. Meanwhile, my other hand had wandered down between my legs, beginning to sensually rub the area between. Could I have another orgasm? Before yesterday, I had no idea what to expect, but now I knew some of the early warning signs, or at least I thought I did.

Continuing further into the gallery, I was seeing sets of images I hadn't viewed previously. Since most of the girls seemed to be similar in age to myself, it was easy to imagine myself in their place. That pretty girl riding up an escalator in a mini skirt with no panties - that could be me. The beautiful young lady in the sundress bending over in the park revealing she has no underwear - that could be me. The cute girl strolling completely naked down a street - that could be me.

With each new exhibition location I imagined for myself, my pulse began to increase, and the rate of my finger movements strove to match it. I could sense I was building toward another climax, but it felt different this time. There was more pressure from my bladder. Should I stop and go? No, I was too close to this orgasm. I wanted it. I needed it. As my fingers moved, they were hitting just the right spot and I was about to climax.

At that very moment, I heard the sound of a key being inserted into the door lock. OH MY GOD!