Bubbles

She's never really understood why this is so important to everyone else. The bubbles are tickling her neck as they pop, holes worn in their filmy surface by the hot water that is turning cool as she traces the fingers of one hand gently against her labia under the water. Her knees are poking through the sparsely scattered clouds like mountains rising in the mist, and she's curled the toes of her left foot around the top of the spigot for leverage.

Sure, it feels nice, but it isn't all that important. The hot water had been a little too hot, but now it's just the right temperature for her to spread her fingers, opening her folds in a way that makes her blush with almost maidenly shame. She doesn't feel sexy, she feels obscene. She thinks back to the conversation earlier in the day when Millay and Shirley--even Shirley! she thinks, and wonders, not for the first time, if she's just weird and underdeveloped--had gushed, flushed and giggly, over the new shower head Sayoko had installed in Luluko's bathroom. Luluko had scowled, skin pinkening, and insisted that it was just a shower head before summarily kicked them out. Millay's knowing look had made her slam the door so hard it bounced off the jamb.

Peering up at the attachment now, she sinks under the water until she can barely see over the bubbles. She doesn't even understand how someone could--that, with that.... Luluko sighs and renews her rubbing, frowning in consternation. She almost wishes she were a guy; she's heard that guys don't have these problems. When things...popped up?--the phrase made her snort and get bubbles up her nose--they just took care of it and went on their merry way. Even their...were different. Easier. Wrap your hand around and stroke, not "press button A to set the clock, B to program date...."

Sighing, she tries to focus on the task at hand. Finger. Whatever. She'd allotted a whole hour to figuring this out--sent Nunnally off to bed early and given Sayoko the night off--and she was damned if she was going to waste it. If she wasn't going to work on it, she might as well have invited Suzaku--

A shudder at the sudden jolt surprises her. Biting her lip, she strokes her finger over the spot again, concentrating. She's disappointed with the lack of results when, unbidden, the boy's sunny smile flashes across her mind again and her toes curl so sharply that her foot slips from the spigot to slam against the wall.

She moans and wonders if she hasn't got the hang of it, finally, when she trails her finger back up the middle to her clit and feels the shivery tingle in her lower belly, like a fish hook behind her navel being pulled. She blinks her eyes at the slippery feeling, different and so distinct from the bathwater, and lets then drift closed. The bottom of her porcelain tub is solid beneath her, and she rocks her head back against the edge as she stretches out, imagining that it's him behind her.

What would he say? What would he do? How would they get to this sort of situation? She finds herself unable to care as her mind supplies, instead, a perfect fantasy of a warm, callused hand slipping around her hip to cover her own. She groans.

His chuckle is low in her ear, curls tickling the side of her face as she rests her head on his shoulder, eyes tightly closed. He guides her hand carefully, knowingly, awakening sensations in places that she'd only academically known had sensation before. Her lips part as he uses her fingers to stroke a tentative circle around her clit. She can feel her folds swelling, feel her clit hardening into a firm little nub, feel her entrance trying to close around nothing. Her shoulder blades dig into the hard surface beneath her.

"What do you want me to do to you, Lulu?" She can hear it perfectly, the wicked smile in the words. She can see his catlike eyes as he smiles--no, leers--at her. Her nipples are hard, and the sensation of the cold room on her heated body is almost distracting. She licks her lips and leads down to her entrance.

Just one finger at first. She's a little nervous, wary, but she's surprised by the wanting. Luluko strokes her middle finger in carefully, wincing at the pinch when she accidentally pokes her hymen with a fingernail, and marvels at the ridges under her fingertip. It's interesting, but it's not really fulfilling in any sort of way until she adds another, gently easing it in beside the first. Her hymen is stretched but not torn, and it stings sharply until she jerks her wrist sharply. The pinkish line forming in the bathwater is disturbed as she flexes her hand, fingers slowly sliding deeper. She wriggles her fingers and gasps again.

The words rise to her lips, so foul she can barely whisper them but can't make herself not: "F-fuck me," she stammers, barely audible over the splashing of the water as she strokes her fingers in and out. Her cheeks are burning as she huffs through her teeth and tries not to drown. "Please! Oh, please!"

She whimpers as she withdraws her fingers, dragging them back up to circle her clit again. Her breath is heavy, chest heaving pale in the water as she finds just the right place to rub. She imagines Suzaku's cock, warm and heavy, pressing in against her and she spreads her knees as far as the tub will allow. Unconsciously, she reaches up with her free hand to grab at the side of the tub before skittering it over to gently brush against a peaked nipple. Her moans echo on the tile.

Luluko moves her fingers quicker, tips sliding in the combined moisture as she climbs closer and closer to orgasm. Her legs feel like they are about to cramp and her toes are curling tight against her feet as her back arches away from the porcelain. Her nails scrabble desperately at her chest, scratching red lines as the blistering ache between her legs finally, finally crests. She's flailing as she comes for the first time, his name in her mouth and on her lips and tongue.

Sinking back into the now tepid water, Luluko casts an exhausted eye around the room. There's water everywhere--her towel is soaked where it rests nearby on the floor--and the bubbles are long gone. She stares at her pubic hair through the water with a deeply suspicious look, then rubs her fingers between her lips again and drawing them out of the water. It strings between her fingers, viscous. Humming softly under her breath in bemusement, she toes the hot water on to refresh her bath and looks at the new shower head ponderously. "Hmm...."