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Subject: MARISSA Chapter 2 (f/mast)
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                         MARISSA
                        Chapter 2
                                              

        When Marissa entered the shower room six days ago, she 
thought she was alone.

        Removing her robe, she was about to step into the shower 
when she heard the curtain being pulled open on the stall next to 
hers.  It was Bob, the pathetically shy boy from her psych class. 
Although outgoing on the surface, Marissa was still a little shy 
around guys. But not with Bob. His obvious shyness bolstered her 
own confidence.

        "Hi, Bob," she said, smiling at him, "how goes it?" 
Because of the relaxed attitude about nudity in the shower room, 
and because they were alone, Marissa didn't bother to cover 
herself.

        "Hi Mari," was the best he could manage. She sensed his 
nervousness, his inner excitement. 

     As they continued their stilted conversation, Bob couldn't 
keep himself from glancing repeatedly at Mari's body.
 
        The realization that this friend he knew so well from 
class, this bright, innocent girl who excited him so--whom he 
would pass quickly in the hall, bringing his face close to her 
hair, just to get a whiff of her-- whom he fantasized about 
constantly, was standing naked before him, her breasts only mere 
inches from his chest, proved too much for him. 

        Without warning, the reptile that lived in the base of 
his brain, that nameless thing that cared only about its own 
satisfaction,  woke up. Slowly it crawled into his cerebellum, 
where it scratched around a little, causing his breathing to 
quicken and his heart to race.

        Then, mercilessly, it found his pleasure center, and 
began to slowly massage it, sending a tingle all the way back 
down his spinal cord, causing his scrotum to tighten.  As the 
tingle spread through his buttocks, he glanced down and saw, with 
horror, that his dick had begun to swell up, doing a little dance 
as it did.

        None of this was lost on Marissa, whose own little 
reptile had awakened.  It was as though Bob's growing excitement 
was flowing from the tip of his penis directly between her legs. 
"I'm beginning to work on my paper," she offered as casually as 
she could, hoping he didn't detect the hoarse excitement in her 
voice.

        "Yeah, well, me too. I'm kinda...," Bob was mortified.  
His erection was now past the halfway point, and, he realized, 
past the point of no return.

         If he kept up this ridiculous line of conversation, 
she'd think he was a fool, or worse, insane.  As his penis 
reached its full size and rigidity, the blue-veined shaft thick 
and throbing, the pulsating purple head pointing directly at the 
light fixture above them, Bob covered himself with his towel.

        Looking her straight in the eyes, he said,  "I'm sorry, 
Mari.  I didn't mean...I mean I tried to keep it down, it's just 
that you're so beautiful...please...please don't be mad...I just 
can't control it."

        "It's OK Bob," she whispered. She glanced down. His towel 
looked like a hastily erected scout tent. "I'll take it as a 
compliment. Still friends?"

        "You bet. Now let me get out of here before someone comes 
in." He paused a few feet from her and stopped.  Turning his 
head, he said with difficulty, "Maybe we could work on our papers 
together...you know, exchange ideas..."

        "I'd like that. Now I really have to take my shower."

     Marissa stepped into the stall, closing the curtain. As she 
washed, her right hand repeatedly rubbed between her legs, 
teasing her clitoris, in stages, into a state of frenzy.
 
        Then, checking to make sure nobody was around, she  
turned toward the back of the stall, bending her knees in an 
approximation of a suma wrestler's stance, and began to 
masturbate, rubbing the right side of her clitoris with the first 
two fingers of her right hand.

        Marissa tried to stop herself. It was too dangerous; she 
could get caught. And she hated giving in to the habit. With 
great effort, she managed to slow down. Then she stopped.

        But that reptilian thing that fed off her excitement 
would have none of it. Now fully awake, and moving, it knew 
exactly what to do.  Reaching that sweet part of her brain, that 
part that seemed to be directly connected to her clitoris, it 
began massaging, teasing, telling her it was all right to do it 
just this time.

Marissa's urge to masturbate became overpowering. She knew she 
couldn't stop herself. With a sigh of resignation, her right hand 
went back between her legs.

        Her fingers expertly located her clitoris, and she began 
rubbing it again, this time knowing exactly where she was going.
                
         Looking over her right shoulder to make sure the curtain 
was still closed, she continued on, faster and faster, rubbing 
and rubbing.

        Dipping her middle finger into her vagina up to the first 
knuckle, she flicked it between the lips, driving herself into 
another world, a place where the only reality was the relief she 
was methodically bringing herself to.

        In her new place, she saw with razor-sharp clarity how 
Bob, excited beyond reason by her naked body, was doing the exact 
same thing in his room, standing precisely in the same position, 
the glistening head of his penis blinking on and off like a 
purple beacon as his fist pumped wildly up and down.
 
        Back to her clitoris, rubbing and rubbing, now on the 
side, now on the tip, now back to the side, her practiced fingers 
knowing just what to do, she began to feel herself getting close. 
"This is going to be a big come," was all she could think.

     When she started getting the feeling, she could barely keep 
her balance. She splayed her feet, pushed her pelvis out, and 
bent her knees still further.                              
        
        As the brain-burning, pre-contraction ecstasy hit her 
clitoris, she shut her eyes tight, bit her bottom lip and slowed 
her stroking, hoping to make the best feeling in the world last 
as long as possible.

         Too soon, the first contraction hit. Marissa then went 
back to stroking the right side of her clit at three strokes per 
second. That, she had found, produced the strongest orgasms. 
"Ohh...ohh...ohh...," she moaned, over and over, through ten 
gut-wrenching contractions. Her long, final grunt brought her 
back to reality. "God, what a come," was all she could think.

        When she got back to her room, she was disgusted with 
herself. "Why do I always give in?" she though.

        She'd been a compulsive masturbator since she was 
thirteen, and she'd been trying to quit ever since.  She'd tell 
herself she'd never do it again, but by the second day she'd be 
back at it, promising herself that this would definitely be the 
last time. 

        She knew that just about all of her girfriends back home 
did it, but they all seemed to have it under control. Most of 
them said they did it about once a week, or less. She told them 
the same thing, "Yeah, me too, maybe once a week," but she knew 
that wasn't the truth. 

         The real truth was, she had to do it just about every 
day. Sometimes twice. She just couldn't stop herself, no matter 
how hard she tried. The longest she had ever been able to last 
was five days, during a trip to Florida for honor students, 
sponsored by the Optimist Club.

        "Well, this time is going to be different," she said to 
herself as she sat on her bed. It was a blow to her ego, that she 
could do just about anything she put her mind to, except stop 
masturbating. "I make myself this promise," she said to herself 
solemnly. "I will not masturbate for a two week period, starting 
now." She was full of post-orgasmic resolve. 

        The next day went well.  Sure, she got that familiar urge 
once or twice, but she made it through fine.  The second day was 
harder, but concentrating on her studies, she managed to resist.

        Today, however, laying here in the sun, she had made a 
costly error. "Why did I let myself think of Bob in the shower?" 
she thought. Hoping that naming the cause would somehow lessen 
its influence, she let it out. "I thought about it because I'm so 
horny."

        "Are you coming to class, Mari?" It was her roommate, 
Vicki, yelling from the roof's doorway. Getting up from the 
chaise lounge, Marissa wondered how she would make it through the 
day.
                
                             End of Chapter 2 



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