High Voltage/Refuse to take a showerC
From Create Your Own Story
Once the door was shut, I flopped down on the bed. It felt good to be off my feet. I didn't really want to take a shower. I sniffed my armpit, and Hannah was right: I needed to take one, but I really didn't want to confront my body. I was happy to be out of the hospital and in a safe place.
After five minutes of lying on the bed, there was a knock on the door. "Hey Lauren," Hannah said through the door, "I wasn't joking. We aren't taking you to Harvey's unless you shower."
"I'm not feeling well Hannah," I groaned, trying to sound sick. "Maybe you should all go without me."
Hannah protested, but I insisted and I continued to lie down on the bed without moving. After thirty minutes or so, I heard the group of girls congregate in the common area and leave. I could order a pizza and get it delivered, I didn't need to go out with these girls to get fed. I did need to get ready for my meeting with Lauren. I stood up and walked over to the closet, hoping to find clothes that were less feminine. I found a gray sweatshirt to swap for the pink one, and a light blue shirt to swap for the white one. Unfortunately the tight jeans would need to stay. I removed my sweatshirt and tee shirt to get dressed again, but I caught another sniff of my body odor. "I guess a quick shower couldn't hurt," I said. I removed the rest of my clothes, grabbed the shower caddy and ran across the hall. I waited for the water to heat up, and then I stepped into the shower. The warm water felt amazingly good on my skin and I regretted delaying the shower. I turned my back to the stream and backed into the water, letting it cascade on my head. I rotated slowly to keep my entire body warm and I reached for the shampoo. As I began to work the shampoo into my long, brown hair, aromas of fruit filled the room. According to the bottle, it was supposed to smell like passion fruit; I'm not really sure if that's a thing, but it smelled good.
Washing my hair took significantly longer than it ever had before. Not only did I need to use conditioner, but my hair was so much longer. When my hair was done, I grabbed the soap and began to scrub my face, and then my arms, and then my chest. My nipples were way more sensitive than I expected. Jess used to complain when I would play too aggressively with hers, and now I could see why. My curiosity was piqued and I sent my right hand south and let it dance over my pussy. I cooed as my finger traced my clit. Hearing the feminine sound escape my lips brought me back to reality and I immediately took my hands off of myself.
Should I:
