Chapter Seven
I’m pretty predictable when it comes to sleep. Every night around 3:00 a.m.
I’ll wake up, lying on my stomach, hugging my pillow. I’ve done this for as
long as I can remember, even when I’m alone in my room, even in dead
silence.
Last night was the exception. Tonight, it seems I’m back on schedule.
I lie in bed, listening for the shallow breathing of five other women, hoping
that’ll lull me back to sleep.
At first, I’m not entirely sure what I’m hearing. I know it’s coming
from Katie and Rachel’s bunk, which runs perpendicular to ours. It’s set
slightly behind ours, and so close that if both Katie and I stretched arms out,
we could touch fingertips.
The curtains on the windows dim the cabin well, but they don’t
completely block the lights shining in from outside. The privacy curtain
helps with that. Only, Autumn and my curtain isn’t long enough, and there’s
a gap near my head.
Tonight, Katie and Rachel haven’t pulled their curtain all the way
around, and the light glows over the end of the bottom bunk.
It takes a few blinks for my eyes to adjust to being awake, and to
process what I see.
A naked woman is bent over Katie’s pillow.
I fight the gasp as my mouth drops and my eyes pop wide.
Another voice whispers through a pant, “Oh my God, I’ve missed
this. Don’t stop...” and I immediately recognize Rachel, earning my second
wave of shock. I knew the two of them were from the same hometown and
came here as friends, but I hadn’t expected this! Wasn’t Rachel ogling Mr.
Wolf only hours ago?
“Like this?” Katie purrs. “Yes,” Rachel moans.
Katie shushes her with a giggle, followed by a soft moan of her own.
“I’m going to come fast if you keep doing that.”
I know I should close my eyes and give them their privacy and yet I
don’t move, because part of me is curious. So I lie dead still and watch
them pleasure each other, wondering what it would feel like to have
someone’s tongue on me like that.
Is anyone else awake? They wouldn’t be able to see this, not like I
can. Well, maybe Autumn, but I hear her soft snore above us.
“Not yet, you greedy—” Katie’s words drift as she begins panting and
wriggling. The curtain shifts, something poking the inside of it. Her knee,
I’m guessing. She’s spreading her legs wide.
I should feel guilty or dirty about spying on them, but I don’t. In fact,
I can’t help the heaviness in my pelvis, the moisture pooling inside my
panties, the urge to spread my own legs.
I’m aroused.
Oh my God. Does this mean I’m a lesbian?
A phone suddenly appears. Katie pushes a few buttons and the screen
lights up, and anything hidden from my view is now lit for me, right down
to the goose bumps on Rachel’s slick flesh.
She’s selfie-videotaping this.
Oh my God.
Katie pauses to pant a few times. “Deeper,” she whispers, and my
thighs squeeze in response to whatever Rachel may be doing on the other
end.
And then Katie wraps her free hand around Rachel’s thigh and presses
her face into Rachel’s mound to muffle her cries of ecstasy. At the same
time, I hear Rachel’s stifled cry and then her body begins to quiver.
A few moments of silence pass before Katie’s head settles back on her
pillow and Rachel’s lithe body begins to climb backward, over the end of
the bed, off Katie.
I close my eyes, afraid of getting caught and painted the peeping Tom.
“I needed that,” Rachel whispers, followed by a soft, “Good night.” I
sense movement right beside my head and then the ladder creaks.
Soon, all is quiet again.
Except now I’m wide awake and mildly traumatized by the private
sexual act I watched. Of all people to witness it... Would they be angry with
me if they knew I had watched? Embarrassed? I’m guessing not, if they’d
risk doing it in the first place. That eases my guilt a bit.
I’m afraid to move yet, so I stay still, replaying what I saw in my
head. I guess it’s the same thing that a guy would do to a woman. I can’t
imagine having a man’s face down there like that.
A man like Henry Wolf, with that strong, square jaw grazing against
the soft skin of my inner thigh. Try as I might, I haven’t been able to get
him out of my head all day. Would he even do something like that? Or
would he find it unappealing? Would I ever be confident enough to allow it?
Jed said the idea of putting his mouth on any holes involved in defecating
didn’t appeal to him. I’m betting that has changed.
It’s now 4:00 a.m. Soft, shallow breaths surround me, and I have a
terrible throb between my legs that isn’t going away. As quietly as I can, I
roll onto my back and slide my fingertips beneath the drawstring of my
pants, hesitant to do this in a room with five other women, even if they’re
all asleep. Sure, the curtain and my blankets hide it, but still...
I gingerly draw my index finger through my slit. It comes out slick. I
bite my lip. And do it again. And again. And then I begin to flick my clit
like I watched Katie do with her tongue, and it makes me wetter.
I haven’t done this in months, since before I caught Jed cheating on
me. I haven’t had the urge, too heartbroken.
The more aroused I get, the braver I become, until I’m no longer so
worried about getting caught. In fact, the idea of Katie or Rachel watching
me do this spurs me on because I think they’d like it. I push my pajama
pants down and spread my legs farther. I’m still under my blanket as I do
this, and I’m being quiet. No one will know.
Should I even care? Autumn brought a dildo with her, and I just
watched my two roommates eat each other out and stick a plug up their ass
only three feet away!
I close my eyes and slowly, gently, back and forth, rub the sensitive
nub of flesh, reveling in how soft it is. How good this feels. Like my body
has been begging me to do it for years.
I struggle to keep quiet as my heart rate begins to race. I close my
eyes and imagine it’s not my hand doing this. It’s Henry Wolf’s hand. His
big, strong, manicured hands would probably know how to do it well.
Or his tongue.
The slow build that’s been growing in my pelvis now rushes, pushing
my legs farther apart, until my covers have fallen away and the cool air
touches my bare skin, and I don’t even care that I’m exposed within my
little cubbyhole.
I close my eyes and imagine myself like Rachel was, bent over Mr.
Wolf’s face while his tongue and his fingers plunge into me. A rush hits me
and I have to press my lips together to keep from crying out as my muscles
pulse beneath my fingertips.
Not until it’s over do I fully comprehend what just happened.
I brought myself to orgasm thinking of my boss.
