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Beach Week Revisted	By : Ungudtime Category: Web Comics > El Goonish Shive Views: 10292 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own EGS, nor the characters herein, nor do I make money from this production

Chapter List
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*It's been a while, but here's a little interlude, there's another larger chapter I have almost done and that should be up in a few weeks*
Susan bit her lip and carefully dressed, fighting off the oozing warmth that curled through her as the cloth slipped up around her thighs. Even taking care she couldn't entirely prevent the sensation that involuntarily sped up her back when her nightshirt brushed across her breasts. She splashed a little cold water on her face, glancing in the mirror as she cleared stray strands of hair from her face and tucked them behind her ears. Even through the chill her face was still visibly flushed, the pink clear against her pale skin and dull shirt.
She paced down the corridor to her bedroom, frowning slightly as she tried to get her mind off the frustrating sensations. They made it so hard to concentrate on anything else, continuing to draw her awareness back to her body again and again, first her breasts, then her thighs, then her neck as her hair pushed the shirt collar up against it. Most embarrassing was when her legs dragged a fold of the loose cotton trousers up between themselves and she suddenly had to resist clenching her thighs together as if clasping her hands to avoid scratching an itch.
When she reached her room she finally began to get herself under control. The place was a mess. It wasn't as bad as Sarah's had been when she'd last gone over, paints and canvas scattered all over the place, clothes piled haphazardly in the corner. Still, a couple of days' clothes were in the basket at the end of her bed, textbooks and exercise sheets were littering her study desk and she could see trails of dust on the wooden floor in the washed-out orange glow of the setting sun pouring through the wide windows.
She set about cleaning up methodically, the monotonous folding and tidying helping her body settle out of its state of heightened awareness from the shower. It didn't entirely go away, however, and her attention kept being drawn away from the menial tasks. It was no good trying to concentrate on anything more elaborate, be it reading or watching TV re-runs, her typical evening pastime. Today, though, the sensations were persistent, the itch returning stronger the more she tried to ignore it.
Rolling her eyes, Susan shrugged off her shirt and stepped out of her loose trousers, folding them at the bottom of the bed. Not having the soft, heavy fabric brushing against herself helped a little, but walking around nude only made her more aware of her situation. The windows of her room tilted upwards a little so she was assured of privacy and she wasn’t particularly self-conscious in any case but the angle meant she could see a subtle reflection of the room in them despite the sun pouring through.
Her body looked flushed in the light, radiant rather than pale and thin as she saw herself in the more clinical light of the bathroom. She had bunched her hair up and tied it to keep it out of the way, a solid mass of black that shone and glinted along the edges of its shape. The soft light rounded out her sparse frame, easing the sharp lines of her hips and shoulders. As awkward as she felt, the ghosting reflections made her seem graceful, powerful. Try as she might, those thoughts kept drawing her eyes away from the tasks at hand and back to her frustrated body.
Finally she gave in and collapsed onto her bed, lying on her back and staring up and the ceiling. After a minute she closed her eyes and relaxed, telling herself that it would just pass if she let it fade. A few minutes more and it had only gotten worse.
Before she was consciously aware of it she had pushed the heel of her palm down her stomach in a vain attempt to forestall the roiling sensation underneath. Unlike the temporary relief a hard rub gave to an itch, however, the action caused her hand to glance off the raised bones of her pelvis and her fingers came to rest at the verges of her pubic hair. The sensation only made things worse. Burying her face in her pillow, Susan gently rolled one leg up a little and let her hand slide further down.
In her head logic wearily pointed out that when she had felt like this, less intensely, a little fondling generally cooled her off. Susan was, contrary to even her own typical thoughts of herself, not entirely devoid of interest in her budding sexuality, but she had always seen herself in a kind of distant light. Her mother's influence and her own literary tastes had caused her curiosity to be more abstract than she imagined the average teenage girl might be. She remembered sitting in front of a hand mirror, gently peeling herself open to have a look after reading about childbirth, wondering how on earth girls her age had managed in ages past. She had spent hours in front of the mirror over the years, gently folding her breasts, marvelling as they developed. The exploration was never sexual, never accompanied by the blushing tension that came intermittently, though more and more frequently, to her since puberty had really taken hold and her periods had set in regularly.
Susan had only realised what some of the awkward discomfort that had begun to be scattered through her daily life was when she heard other girls talking about it in changing rooms at the pool. For her being horny had been triggered by any number of sensual experiences, sitting astride a padded couch, curled up under a rough, warm blanket and, though she'd never admit it to anyone, standing naked deep in the woods in summer, moss curling around her toes. That had been the first time she'd given in to the impulse to touch herself, clamping an arm across her breasts not for the sake of modesty or pleasure but to dampen the rising sensation the rippling wind was causing in them, pressing a hand between her legs to shield herself there as well. Then she realised that the sudden chill down there was caused by her own wetness. Carefully she'd explored the familiar folds of her labia and found them heavy and slick. Then a nudge against her clitoris had caused her knees to twist and her eyes to widen sharply. The intensity of it had shocked her out of the moment and she'd fled back to find her clothes. She'd kept her hands away from herself since then, keeping them busy doing tedious activities until the sensation went away, hugging a pillow and reciting Vulcan quotes if she was in bed. Unfortunately, thinking about Star Trek recently had only seemed to make things worse for some reason.
It took a conscious effort of mind to let her hand slip down between her thighs, the sparse brush of her pubes sharp against her sensitive fingers. All of her efforts had only seemed to make things worse and now she resolved to try and get things done directly. At first her fingers caught on the tight, hairy skin of her crotch, sticking slightly as the soft skin mounded up around them. Gently she teased open the thick pads of her outer labia, settling more onto her back and letting her legs fall open. The motion dragged her hand out of position and suddenly her fingers weren't pressing against her skin any more, slipping up through inner folds of flesh that were unbelievably slick.
She bolted half upright, her spread legs only allowing her to reach her elbows. The liquid warmth that had been rolling through her ever since her shower splashed about in her belly. Before she'd even given it much thought her hand was back between her legs, slicking a finger down to the base of the slit, feeling her fingers dip into a slippery, viscous puddle of the stuff that was pooling in the entrance to her vagina.
Amazed, Susan explored herself. She'd never been wet like this before. Her mind was split between desire to press harder and a floating intellectual curiosity. As she gently ran her fingers over her labia she felt the two thoughts struggle for dominance, noticing how engorged her privates were at the same time she noticed they felt entirely different with the lacquer of fluid her fingers were spreading over it. She marveled at just how smooth it was.
Suddenly, as if trying to catch herself by surprise, she slipped her fingertips upwards and found the hood that concealed the little round of her clitoris. Involuntarily her core and buttocks clenched as a wave of never-before experienced intensity shot up her spine. A half second later her body felt like it was liquefying and she groaned and sagged back against the bed. The motion pushed her against her hand again and suddenly she was as tense as before, her legs curling in on themselves. She heard a soft squelching sound and felt warmth roll down onto her butt. Through the fog of sensation she realised her pussy had just squeezed tight, expelling air and fluid alike, dislodging the pool that had been gathering at her entrance.
Only half aware of what she was doing, Susan rolled over and squirmed until she could reach a hair towel she'd discarded after her shower. She rammed the fabric under herself, it slid between her cheeks and she felt it draw the fluid rolling down between them away. The moment this was done she returned to her exploration, considered thought fleeing before the overpowering urge to feel.
She was so wet her hand had a hard time finding the purchase she instinctively sought. She slipped fingers across her clit, avoiding direct pressure and instead rubbing the folds of its hood down over it and pressing, feeling the sensation of unbearable tension spike through her followed by a wave of languid relaxation as her muscles unclenched. Her other hand gripped and tugged spasmodically on the covers, trying to find leverage as her body stretched and relaxed, stretched and relaxed. A particularly strong stroke caused her whole core to judder, sharp and hard.
After a minute Susan realised her eyes had been closed, she had been entirely entranced by the rippling, raging sensations rolling through her. Letting herself go like this was exactly like and entirely unlike she had expected it would be, all at once. She rolled over onto her side and let her hand fall away from herself, then drew it up her belly to her breast, wondering at how much more strongly she felt the touch than normal.
She lay sprawled on the sheets, her mind fuzzy with arousal, letting her hands wander about her body and flexing, arching, twisting languorously. Never had she felt as strongly present in her own body as now, the warring voices in her head hushed in awe of the simple, overwhelming pulse of sensation. Seconds later her hand was back between her legs and this time she pressed her clit down with her warm palm, her fingers pushing down into the warm slick below. She felt the tight bands of her entrance press back against the tips of her fingers until an involuntary roll of her hips pressed hard enough against them that they pushed into her.
As they did the sun dipped low through a cloud and warmth rolled across her sweaty chest and stomach. The quiet intensity of the change slammed through her and suddenly her hips bucked out of control. A spasm pressed her fingers out of herself with a wet sound and Susan gasped through clenched teeth, a tiny cry giving way to heavy, fast breaths as she convulsed, toes curling and arms flailing to brace against whatever they could find. She maintained just enough control to drag her fingers up her clit, spreading wetness up across her mound and thighs and then her body was acting on its own, clenching and rolling, arching, squeezing and pushing. She clenched her eyes shut and opened her mouth in a huge, silent groan, crushing her face into the pillows as pulse after pulse shot through her. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like forever. As the sensations subsided her body gradually relaxed, slumping into the newly-messed sheets.
Her mind whirled, giddy with the experience. She knew she'd just come for the first time, but beyond that she was finding it hard to string thoughts together. She sat up slowly, breathing deeply, eyes half closed against the setting sun. There were spots of liquid all across the inside of her legs and onto the sheets past where she’d jammed the towel underneath herself. She found herself blushing even though no one else was home. She hadn’t felt it, but her contractions and fingers had spread her wetness everywhere. Though her first instinct was to be embarrassed, mostly she was too impressed by the intensity of sensation and her body’s reaction to it to feel awkwardness or guilt. She tried absently to mop herself dry with the towel, but she was still so sensitive she ended up with it balled between her legs, curled over it.
To her surprise, she found her eyes were a little damp as well, she didn’t feel sad, really, but her emotions were in flux, her normal compass spinning and confused. As the evening settled in she slipped off the bed and found a fresh towel, wiping off the sheen of sweat that had started drying in the warmth. Then she slipped her nightshirt on and curled up under the sheets, letting her mind wander aimlessly as her body relaxed slowly into sleep. For now, she was content to have learned a little more about herself, but in the back of her mind new questions began quietly to form…
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Beach Week Revisted