Last Sunday at Home.
This is a true story of my last day in my home town before leaving for university. Yes, this was real, this was that happened that day. Names were changed for obvious reasons, and a few details left out, (some because they were boring, and others because there's no need to know.)
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Sunday morning. Oh how I hate Sunday mornings. The harbinger of the end of the weekend, and, more often than not, it means going to church. Make no mistake, I don't HATE church, but I just wish I could go when I wanted to. My parents expect me to go every Sunday, like they do. That means that I'm going to church, unless I can somehow wiggle out of it with one excuse or another. But not today. We're Catholic, so church and guilt are basically part of our lives.
I was woken up to the blaring of my alarm, rudely informing me that it was time to get up, get ready and then go get my weekly dose of boredom and guilt. And also waking up to hearing my brother singing (badly) while he was in the shower. Great, now I have to wait for my shower, too. His bedroom and mine share a conjoined bathroom. While it sounds like it should be awesome, it really isn't. He's kind of a slob and never cleans it up. And always leaves his freaking towels on the floor!
Thankfully I didn't have to wait all that long for my turn. It gave me a few more minutes to go over my room, to look for anything else that I needed to pack for tomorrow.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day that I leave to go to university. I kind of got lucky with that, since my brother's a year older than me, but he's only finishing a single year of law before he joins the police department. That meant that my family could afford to pay for my university, instead of a local college. It's kind of scary, knowing that tomorrow, I'll be off and on my own. In another state, and in a city way, way bigger than the town that I've lived in all my life. From a small town in the mid-west to Seattle. A long way away, and a big change for me.
It also means leaving my boyfriend behind, too. Well, I can't really call him my 'boyfriend', more like a 'good friend that I sometimes had sex with'. My parents think I'm still a virgin, after all! I couldn't dare have BC pills, since my parents might find them. Fortunately, I was able to get 'The Shot' A needle every couple of months is all it takes. And it's also thanks to that that I became a bit of a cum-slut, I think. God, I love cum... Ahem!
But first, a gloriously hot shower to wake up fully. Being a little under 5' tall, it's easy for me to stand directly under the shower head and soak fully, unlike my way taller brother, who has to duck to get his head under it. I love the feel of hot water coursing down my body, like a dozen gentle caresses all at once.
Shower done and over with, then comes the second part, necessary for a girl that wants to look her best. Shaving. The act of shaving is decidedly unsexy. It's awkward and clumsy and you have to contort into all kinds of positions to make sure you get everything. And you always miss a patch somewhere. And then there's shaving my vag. It's always a little tricky and you have to be extra careful. Getting nicks down there REALLY sucks. Take my word for it.
But once shaved, it's so worth the effort. The caress of my fingers against smooth-shaved lips and mound sends tingles up my spine. I couldn't resist the urge to play with myself right there in the bathroom. Leaning back on the toilet, one foot braced against the wall opposite me, thighs spread wide. I could feel the tingle in my pussy already, even with my fingers caressing along the 'innie' lips I have.
