When the other girl had gone, Becky still stood in front of the mirror, unable yet to believe what she was seeing. She knew Marjie was wrong, of course. It was the new hair style that had done It. She was sure that when she recombed her hair in the fashion traditional with her, the momentary illusion of beauty would be gone, vanished like puffs of smoke.
And she could prove it easily. The comb lay within bet reach. Straighten out the clever teases and curls Marjie had given her and once more she would see the same, plain old Becky. Her fingers extended, tempting themselves with that comb, but she could not bring herself to touch it, to apply it to her hair. She didn't want to rob herself of this grand illusion, this new revelation of what she could have been.
A hand went to her face, touched exploringly the tight young flesh stretched across sinuous young bones. She rubbed her chin, felt the slimness of her neck. A finger slid along her collarbone, rubbed her upper chest. She looked into the mirror deeply, studying the small rounded mounds of her tits, noting carefully-indeed, for the first time-the jaunty uptilt of her nipples, small and pink, the areolae slightly larger than a nickel, the points perky and somewhat redder than the field from which they grew. She touched her nips, took each teat in its turn between thumb and middle finger, Sighed thoughtfully as she felt them become rubbery-stiff in her exploring hold. Now they pointed with a vengeance, she thought, and the press of a finger to their extensions sent quivers of strange feeling all through her body.
Curiously she turned halfway round, looking sideways at her profiled image in the mirror. Her hair fell in newly discovered curling swirls as far as her shoulder blades, and she could see clearly the definitely rakish thrust of her breasts, capped as they were by now-erected little nipples. She studied the curve of her back, the demure but sensuous swelling of her young hips, the smoothness of her belly as it curved in to compensate for the thrust of her ass. She saw, for the first time as it were, the clever shapeliness of her slim thighs, the languid lines of her calves, the dainty protrusion of reddish-gold pubic hair from the juncture of her crotch.
Desperately anxious to know the truth about herself for once and all, Becky turned frantically to the front once more and seized with determined hands the comb before her. Hastily, demonically, she dragged it through her hair, rearranging her tresses as they had been before. Her eyes widened when she had finished. She stared like one possessed, searching the image before her in the burnished mirror, unable to believe what she saw.
It wasn't the coiffure Marjie had given her! Even now, seeing herself in the same, dull old hairdo she had worn all her teenage years, Becky knew that she was indeed beautiful! To see herself now was like seeing a stranger, but a stranger worth beholding. How could she have missed it, all these years? Dropping the comb to the floor and shaking her head so that her hair fell upon her shoulders in unkempt disarray, Becky whirled before the mirror, improvising a dance on the spot from the deepest reaches of her suddenly awakened inner sell. She spun round the room, keeping herself always in sight of that new spectator she had learned to love. Her breasts didn't flop and sag when she moved, she thought madly. They rose and fell as she breathed and gestured, but they didn't sag a fraction. They were beautiful! Everything was beautiful! She was beautiful! The winter was over, the sun bad shone down, and in a lonely forsaken garden a flower had bloomed!
In love with her own loveliness, Becky began spiritedly to mimic Marjie's preparations for an evening out. She posed before the mirror, unable to break the visual contact with her fair reflection, took the bottle of expensive perfume and, throwing caution to the wind, daubed the scented fragrance on her own pink nipples. The stiff tips rolled rubbery as she dabbled them and sent a message of thanks to her brain center. She rubbed them again and again, enjoying the tautness of their thrust. The heady aroma of Marjie's perfume was intoxicating, and it was with reluctance that she decided at last that her nipples were sufficiently scented and so let her finger give the same treatment to her cleavage. A tingle spread throughout her as a finger stroked her breastbone, and wickedly she applied a fresh sprinkling to her applicator digit.
It slipped down her belly, charged with the lovely tangy incense, and darted into the clump of bush. It roved along the lips of her cunt. Becky smeared the perfume into her crotch, stroked her labia long after the coating of scented oils had all rubbed off on her body, relishing now the feeling of her finger touching her pussy opening. A sensation she could not explain or describe swept over her then, and she spread her thighs ever so slightly as she quivered in delight.
Becky's finger slipped into her opening twat and she felt the constricting lips close round her digit like a steel trap. No matter. She had no wish to remove just then the object that had intruded into her womanly orifice. Memories of that incredible sense of fullness she had experienced when Ted's cock was in her stole back upon Becky's consciousness, and she imagined for-a moment that her finger was itself a probing prick, just inserted between her lips. She straightened the finger and, careful of the nail it bore, slid it up her tunnel, wincing deliciously as her not-to-be controlled fingernail did indeed scrape tentatively the unbearably delicate flesh of her cuntal channel. She began to work it like a corkscrew, round and round in ever increasing circles, digging more and more deeply, and then, just as she was looking into the mirror, she saw her face go black and red and purple and green and blue and last of all pale and pink and startled.
Something inside her had caused her to explode like a rocket firecracker on the fourth of July. Her pussy gushed moisture round her still-inserted finger, and she wondered if she bad inadvertently pissed herself, but no-there was no urine smell, and besides it wasn't that kind of wetness. Her shoulders and breasts shook uncontrollably and her knees were so weak she didn't think she could stand up another minute. Trembling mightily she sank onto the nearest object of support, Marjie's bed. Her finger still lay wedged inside her body.
Becky lay back, her shoulders braced against the soft mattress, her legs drawn up at the knees, heels braced against the slim round cushions of her ass. Her thighs were held apart, and her cunt lay open, pronged by that questing finger. What had she done to herself?
The only way to find out was to try it again, this time taking careful attention. Prepared for anything now, she once more instigated the corkscrew action that had led to such a surprising development, and as she worked her finger in and out, she burrowed in ever-increasing orbits of attack.
Oh God!! She had done it again. Once more the flesh of her knuckle had touched something-something she hadn't even known was in there-and her twat streamed wet and gooey round the stiff finger. It felt so good! She tried it again, and this time when she made that sensational contact it seemed as if her ass were jerking up and down on the bed, hips shoving that tingling unknown against her finger to perpetuate the wanton stimulation. My God, she suddenly thought. Her ass was indeed jerking up and down on the mattress, and her finger was jammed all the way it could reach into her pussy. But it didn't seem to be enough.
She straightened another finger and this time without so careful and delicate a prelude, shoved it into her cunt right beside the other finger. This was her middle digit, and it was longer than the other one already present, and when it had imbedded itself fully, a finger tip plumbed her slightly deeper than before, stimulating an untouched area of her pussy.
The tightness was something else, she decided, feeling her cuntal sheath squeezing round the two inserted fingers, but it was nowhere near so constricted as when Ted had jammed his cock up her with no mercy. After a moment of accommodation to the new presence, she began to work her wrist in a circle, burrowing both fingers round and round inside her cunt. Oh God!!! Now both knuckles had hit that tenderly agonizing whatever inside her, and her pussy was so wet that there was no longer any tightness round the two inserted fingers.
She had to see what it was, find out what was causing her to feel so wickedly, sinfully ecstatic!
Becky bent herself forward and, withdrawing her fingers, used both hands to spread wide the velvet lips of her young cant. Her honeypit opened in delightful folds, all soft and pink. She could see the daintiest little nubbin of flesh inside her slit, near its upper end-a nubbin of girl flesh she had never noticed before, though, sticking out now as it was, she wondered how she could ever have overlooked it. Was that the mysterious something she had brushed into life? She rubbed it with her thumb and immediately spasmed into shuddering delight. Her thighs of their own will clamped tight around her hand, holding that stroking thumb against the raw and sensitive point of flesh that seemed to control her every emotion. Agonized by the tenderness that her thumb was outraging, she shook and trembled and ground her thighs tighter together. Now she was bent almost double, living only for the feeling that swept throughout her body as her thumb hit that button again and again. Fighting against the constriction of her locked thighs, she managed to insert two fingers up her hole. They slid in easily, aided by the surprising wetness of her, and as she thumbed again and again at her new-found new-made friend, her fingers were jacking in and out of her goodie box.
She was all slick and wet inside and her eyes seemed to be frozen. Images blurred In front of her and waves of blackness swept back and forth in her consciousness. Her heart was jumping as if it meant to beat its way through the flesh of her chest, and her mouth gaped open as she sucked air into her body in gasping gulps.
Weird and terrible feelings oppressed her. She remembered as clearly as if it were happening right now the moment when Ted had forced her to the ground and shoved his cock into her unprotected, previously unpenetrated vagina. In driving her fingers up her cant, she found memories of the heavy brutal thrusts of his prick. But he had done to her was nothing at all like this. He had been rough and cruel and brutal and savage, and she had been frightened and tight and unwilling. But even Ted's brutal fucking had grown almost bearable after a while-not pleasant, of course, for the shoving of his cock in and out of her dry and trembling cunt had been agony for the longest time. Even so, as her slot grew more and more accustomed to the presence of his dick in its narrow tunnel, there had been an almost comfortable feeling, like the satiety of a hearty Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma Ryan's.
And now, as she thrust again and again into her wet canal, thumbed madly at her loving nub of raw nerve-ends, she knew that this, this was what life was all about! Not only had she come in this evening to discover that she was truly a beautiful girl, she had also learnt that her beautiful body was capable of feelings and emotions and reactions she had never guessed at in all her eighteen years of life.
And her heart pounded faster, ever faster, till she was positive it would burst her body asunder and pump its way out of the dorm, across the campus, and on into space indefinitely, forever, and her thumb continued its demonic bout of rubbing and touching and twiddling and diddling, her fingers still driving in and out, in and out, in and out…
A shuddering gasp burst from her throat and Becky knew that she was dying and she went limber and loose at once in expectation of the touch of the Angel of Death. Her body straightened itself out after a fashion, though she lay limp and pliable as a dishcloth, and her fingers slid from her cunt on a track made of drenched pussywalls, and her thumb fell idle and her heart skipped its pace for a moment, then braked itself hard and slowed down to a tempo more nearly normal, though still fast, and she lay on her side, sopping wet from her sweat, her cunt dripping juices whose fragrant feminine aroma filled the confines of the room, her breath slower, more measured, like long-held sighs.
She rolled over onto her back after what seemed like an eternity. Her arms flopped weakly over the sides of the bed and she lay there in a crucifixion pose, legs folded over at the knees, arms outstretched, a look of fulfillment, a smile of satisfaction covering her face. She was beautiful-the world was beautiful-life was beautiful-and, most important of all, her cunt was beautiful and it could do such beautiful things!
Becky dreamed that Marjie stood beside her then, smiling beatifically, saying words whose tenor she could not grasp in her present condition. A low "Ummm," hummed In thrilling husky tones that tingled her voice box, sounded from Becky's mouth, and she brought her hands up to rest on her tummy, squeezing herself, her heels digging into the bed as she flexed her body like a tawny, slinky cat. Gradually she became aware that Marjie's hand lay upon her shoulder.
"Oh, God", she whispered, her face scarlet from shame, as she looked up into the face of her roommate. How much bad Marjie seen? What would she think?
Marjie sat beside her, the plump and almost uncovered swell of her full hip touching Becky's side. She put a soft hand on her roommate's golden hair.
"Feel better now, Beck?" she asked in a voice that signified her complete understanding.
Becky averted her eyes from Marjie's searching stare, horrorstruck that she was no longer alone. Words failed her.
"Hey, come on, kid," Marjie teased. "You don't have to be embarrassed. We all do that once in a while. If I bad a nickel for every time I've diddled my box, well-let's just say I'd have a lot of nickels." She laughed and caught Becky's chin in her hand, pulling the abashed girl's face round once more.
"I don't have to ask you if it was good," Marjie noted. "Tell me, Beck," she went on, her eyes studying the blonde girl carefully. "Are you a virgin?"
Becky went crimson. Her eyes closed, for she could not turn her head away. "Not exactly," she whispered. "There was this guy I used to date, back in high school, and-"
"I get it," Marjie smiled. "You only did it with your steady."
"No, no," Becky protested. "That's not how it was at all." She breathed deeply, summoning up her courage to discuss the shame, feeling for some strange reason relief that at last she could bring herself to speak of it. "You see, we never did anything while we were going together-just kiss sometimes, and maybe I'd let him touch me once in a while. But I broke up with him just before I came up here, and he got so mad, he-he-he raped me!" There! the cruel callous words had been said.
Marjie's eyes went wide in horror. "The son of a bitch!" she yelled, getting to her feet and stomping round the room, first striking her soft plump thigh. "The lousy son of a bitch!" She stopped short and hurried to Becky's side once more. The lovely blonde girl lay frankly nude now. She saw no point in covering the body Marjie had already seen, to fold her thighs over the pussy Marjie had seen while watching her masturbate to the height of passion.
"Come on," Marjie said. "Get your ass off my bed and find some clothes. You're going to a party tonight, whether you like it or not."
Becky arose from the bed like a zombie. "I'd have to get cleaned up," she said. "I smell terrible."
"You smell great," Marjie smiled, "but I think you should take a real quick shower. If you walked in there tonight with that come-scent all over you, the orgy would start right then, and none of the other girls would stand a chance of getting a guy. No need to put all your cards on the table, you know."
Sparkling clean from the shower, with antiperspirant sprayed under her arms, some of Marjie's perfume touched ever so lightly to the tips of her breasts, to the point of her chin, to the insides of her thighs, Becky sat on the room's desk chair, nude, awaiting Minnie's verdict on the contents of her wardrobe.
Marjie, cursing like a longshoreman under her breath, examined frilly dresses, modest pantsuits, culottes, and cast them all aside. "Jesus, Beck," she said at last, "don't you have any clothes that were made to flatter your bod? Let me think." She looked at a tag inside a pantsuit. This size fits you, right?" Becky nodded. "Okay," Marjie went on. "Back In a sec." She raced out of the room and Becky could bear her scuttering down the hall.
In a few minutes Marjie had returned, accompanied by a girl from another room. Becky didn't know her name, but she had passed the girl in the ball once or twice. She was about Becky's size, but her breasts were very small and her hips almost skinny.
"Beck, this is Marilyn. She's in 113. I think she'll fit into that jumpsuit of yours. What do you say?"
Marilyn nodded, her eyes appraising Becky's slim figure. "She's got more in the tit department that I have, though. It'll be tight around the chest."
"So much the better," Marjie snickered. "Why don't you go get it, kid?" she added, and Marilyn went out the door. She turned to Becky. "You know," she smiled, "I came back because I forgot my key and I didn't want to have to wake you up to let me in. And I turn out being the fairy godmother getting Cinderella ready for the party. Kid, you lucked out when you drew me for a roomie."
And then Marilyn was back, a lovely nylon jumpsuit across her arm. She came to Becky, holding It out, and the blonde girl took it. Becky repressed a desire to point out that the material was thin and translucent, for she suddenly knew that even though it was more daring than any clothing she had ever worn before, she wanted to wear it tonight. Tonight was the first night of the new Becky Ryan's life, and this seemed just the thing to declare that fact to the world.
Becky reached for a clean bra but Minnie's hand stayed hers.
"No," Marjie smiled. "Those tits of yours don't need support. The only thing a bra does is cover them up, and they sure as hell don't need that, either." Becky dropped the bra.
She wriggled into a pair of opaque bikini panties, fearful least Marjie reject these undergarments as well, but her roomie made no protest. Next Becky stepped into the jumpsuit, noted how well its lime green color went with her looks. She zipped up the front, straining a little to close it over her high and proud breasts. Last of all she fastened the built-in belt round her hips.
"It's beautiful on you, Beck," Marilyn smiled unselfishly, wishing even as she spoke that it looked half so nice on her.
Becky was deliciously shocked to note that her pink nips were almost clearly visible under the thinness of the top. They weren't on public display the way Marjie's were, but the careful observer would be rewarded with distinct glimpses of the little circles if he only looked hard enough. And she could see the outline of her low-riding panties beneath the lower portion of the suit. The material fit her legs snugly to the knees, and she seemed to sense their shapeliness even more than she had tonight observing herself in the nude.
"Only one thing," Marilyn said with a grin. "Don't get anything on it. Please."
"Oh, I'll be real careful," Becky promised, reminding herself to use a napkin if she was offered any food at the party.
"She'll take good care of it," Marjie interjected. "Besides, once those guys get a look at her, I don't think she'll be able to keep it on very long. It's just to get her there and get her home."
"Okay," Marilyn smiled. "Have a nice time, kids, and if there's any guys left over, why not bring a couple home for me?"