Posted in the forums and largely ignored when the system wasn't working.
Anya lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling of her moderately-sized dorm room. Her digital alarm clock's LCD display burned a crisp 4:05 AM in the darkness. In two hours and a half she would have to go to class. Her music player was still operating, singing out Pink Floyd's later, more ambient sounds. In her head, she went over all the homework she had and every project due withing the next three weeks. Everything was according to schedule. She continued to stare, thinking about how she would make the most of the first weekend her roommate, Tara, was gone.
Eventually, the alpha-numeric screen radiated 5:00. Deciding that another short bout of sleep was going to be unattainable, she drooped out of bed and stumbled to her laptop. Anya could feel her pupils straining, as she had not bothered to turn on the lights. Her body was sore from the volleyball game the previous night. She had scored the winning points, but at the cost of falling and over-extending her pectoral muscles in the process. Groggily, she slipped off everything but her panties and googled 'self-massage'. One of the first hits was a nice series of free tutorials on how to use massage to improve overall health. She hit the Female Torso link. As she mimicked the hands on the video, a slight warmth began to accumulate in the breasts, her areolae tingling. Not wanting to interrupt being in the therapeutic 'zone', she clicked on Breast Massage. The manicured fingers methodically fondling the soft, firm breast on her screen fueled the heat and her nipples stood erect. Her left hand tended to her aroused bosom, playing with the hard lumps that punctuated her endowment while her right headed for the burning slit between her legs.
Anya slipped her hand under her panties and plunged two fingers into herself while pinching her clitoris, the crown jewel of her sex. As her juices began to flow out of her, she took the hand from her slit and placed it in the same place, but over the panties. Her wetness increased as the slight roughness from the cotton excited her clit and the folds of skin below it. Just as the garment was becoming damp, she thrust the fabric has far into herself as her fingers would go, soaking her underwear into a heavy, dripping mass. Anya removed them from her pussy and sucked on her warm, viscous fluids while fingering herself again. Seeking a more erotic supplement to her masturbation, she paused from rubbing her tits and her voluminous lower lips just long enough to type the address of a lesbian porn site in Firefox's url bar. The New Updates section of the site had her twiddling her clit with renewed enthusiasm. As she neared cumming, she grabbed the tampon applicator she had fortified with lots of plastic wrap sealed in duct tape and impaled whatever was left of her hymen over and over again. Finally, Anya's body went rigid as she dropped the panties and makeshift dildo and a small spurt of girl-cum from between her legs announced her climax. The only sound to escape her euphoric grimace was a soft, quivering moan. Needing to recover, she sat back in her chair and stared in much the same way she had been doing over an hour beforehand.
Having regained her composure, the girl hid her toy, put her dirty clothes in the hamper and sorted out the day's outfit. Finally choosing a pair of low-rise blue jeans and a cropped black halter top accented by black arm warmers, she decided to not wear chest support and picked up a black silk thong instead. She left her selection on the bathroom counter and turned on the shower. As the water rose in temperature, she brushed her teeth and sat on the toilet, only to decide to practice standing urination. Not being very good yet, she would do it in the shower. Anya waved her arm through the stream of water and decided it was hot enough. She slowly stepped in slowly, careful not to fall from the tub's slickness. Her fingers pressed on her clitoral hood and shaped her vulva so that her urethra would fire an arc of urine. Instead, it sprayed all over her thighs, trickling down her calves and mixing with water at her feet. Unable to resist the kinkiness of her bad aim, she shoved her ridged shampoo bottle into her vagina. Her thrilled Kegel muscles thanked her dearly and rewarded her with an orgasm that almost gust the wind out of her. Knees shaking, she washed her cum off the bottle.
As she worked soap into every square inch skin, Anya observed her figure. It was attractive (her long-lost virginity was proof) to say the least. Measuring 36D-27-35, her nipples, which had the diameter of a quarter, were unusually small for her breast size. Nevertheless, she liked them. Since the only hair she allowed to grow was atop her scalp, they, and her tight little mound, provided the only variance of color--a soft pink on a creamy (slightly off) white. Then she washed her rich, chocolate hair which grew to a few vertebrae past her shoulders. Having cleansed her body, she lathered her legs, cunt, and underarms with shaving cream. A few small cuts and a palm full of aftershave later, she rinsed her freshly groomed skin, shut off the water, and reached for the fluffy green towel on a nearby rack. The burst of chilled air beyond the hot steam caused her nips to contract so that they resembled dimes.
Practicing the delicate art of seduction, she stepped out of the bathtub as sensually as she possibly could. Then she realized Dark Side of the Moon was playing on her stereo. Soon enough, Anya was reverse-stripteasing in front of the half-fogged mirror. By the time she was finished, the steam from her shower had fully evaporated. She rhythmically humped a cabinet knob while applying blood red lipstick and an intense black eyeliner. A touch of foundation and blush accentuated her indisputably lovely features. After a quick pause caused by yet another minor orgasm, she finally felt satisfied and adorned a pair of onyx loop earrings in the form of the sickle-and-hammer. Finished, the girl turned off the lights and mp3 player, grabbed her purse, and stepped outside her dorm. Her stomach growled as she locked the door and Anya walked down the hall, pondering her breakfast.