Needs Met

Needs

"Dammit!" She stubbed her toe on the corner of her bed. Despite the fact Ashley lived alone, she audibly swore. It's been a long day. Her boss was yelling contradicting instructions at her, a truck ran through a puddle and soaked her, Jerry from management spilt coffee on her and she had to pretend to be nice about it so she wouldn't get fired. She finally got out of a long needed, very hot shower to wash off all the mud and metaphorical dirt off of her from the day. Finally, she could go to bed and start over in approximately 8 hours when the sun would rise and begin the too short weekend she's been waiting for.

Ashley rubbed her sore toe, examined it and saw no blood or bruising. It was fine, she concluded, no need for bandages or anything. Let's just get into bed and relax for the last few minutes left in the night.

Two hours passed.

Then three.

She couldn't sleep. Something was keeping her awake. She took her prescribed sleep medication several hours ago, almost as soon as she got home. It was strong stuff, too, so there was no reason it shouldn't be working. She hadn't drank, done recreational drugs, nothing. Everything was supposed to work out. She even tried some of that over the counter supplement Melatonin. This frustration at the cherry on top of a terrible week, month, year, however long it has been since Ashley's last good day, was probably not aiding in her need for a full REM cycle.

"I just want to go to bed..." she moaned quietly to herself, covering her head in her comforter and letting out a great big sigh of... it couldn't be relief. But maybe it was relief. She was too tired to tell what emotions she was truly feeling.

And maybe she was too tired to realize what she was feeling with her hands because, almost unconsciously, she suddenly found her hands running softly down her body. Her finger tips barely touching her oversized tee shirt she got from... well, from somewhere. Through her short cut grey sweatpants from some company in Asia she got on Amazon.com, and which shouldn't even legally be called clothing because of their paper thin material, she very carefully rubbed between her legs. It was a soft area, very warm, like the first sip of a hot chocolate after a below freezing winter day. She could feel the prickliness of the hairs just starting to grow back after shaving yesterday, but it didn't bother Ashley who, for many reasons, didn't think it was a big deal and yet, for whichever one of those reasons, she shaved anyway. Perhaps she was hoping she would meet someone that day and that something could happen and, well, wanted to be prepared in case the man or woman she met had strong feelings about hair on a woman's body.

All Ashley wanted to do was go to sleep.

Something was making her do this. Whether it was her own subconscious requests or some odd, Stephen King supernatural force controlling her, or some other thing, she was touching herself. Still through the "clothing" her hand pressed gently on top of where she thought her clitoris was; it was hard to tell, after all, through the clothing. Just in her head, she laughed at her memory of someone referring to the clitoris as a button for woman's orgasm. How hilariously uninformed, she thought, to assume a woman will come at the press of a button. Obviously, that is more clearly expected of men.

Remembering that she just cleaned her bed sheets, Ashley got out from under the covers and undressed quickly but tiredly, almost tripping over her "pants" but catching herself on the windowsill. In her nightstand drawer, where she assume most women kept their private items purchased in cash, and behind the book she'll never read, rest her vibrator. One her best friends a few years ago told her a woman's vibrator is actually her best friend. She laughed at this memory as well, remembering what a backstabbing bitch that Renne was but also how truly correct she was in that statement.

All she wanted to do was go to sleep.

I just took a shower, Ashley thought. But I don't want to ruin those new sheets. Ashley sat in shower, naked all but for her knee high socks she got just in time for Halloween, appropriately colored purple and black, and took a slow, deep breath. She thought of that one boy in college who fucked her just right. Ashley recalled him partying with his frat friends and turning over a street lamp while shit faced drunk. She pushed that memory away, choosing to focus on the good one. 

Alex made love to her very well, oh so very well. He didn't do that Just The Tip thing that's apparently popular. He started slow and asked her if she was okay, did she need more lube? No, it was perfectly lubed up. He went slow at first and when she asked him to go faster and he happily obliged. He flicked her clitoris around too, which she didn't ask for but she happily accepted. He gave sloppy but good kisses to her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. She could tell he really wanted to be there with her, to connect with her and to love her, even if it was just for one night and even if he was an asshole outside of the bedroom.

She was wet now. Thinking about that always helped get her wet. She turned on the vibrator to the lowest setting, very unlike her but she did it anyway. She placed it against her clitoris and pulled back almost immediately, startled. She forgot the lube. Good thing I decided to do this in the shower, she thought to herself, I keep the lube in here.

Trying again, this time with ample lube on her favorite adult toy, she turned it on to the lowest setting and pressed it against the area of the body she wanted it to stimulate and closed her eyes, picturing her night with Alex. It felt amazing, like she was floating on a cloud. Pure ecstasy radiated off of her. 

She sat that way for several minutes, even turning up the vibrations to higher and higher settings. It was odd, sitting there for so long without even getting close to an orgasm. Something was missing. She considered stopping and grabbing something to penetrate herself with, though she didn't have another toy. She put a finger in her vagina, wiggling it around and touching herself for several more minutes.

Nothing. She tried two fingers.

Still, nothing. She didn't like three fingers but she tried it just to see and, well, nothing again.

Ashley was enjoying herself, yes, but she was also impatient and all she wanted to do was sleep.

There was a growl from the drain. Maybe... she wasn't sure. It was two in the morning, she was delirious. It was the friction of her foot rubbing against the wet tile. But there, again, a growl. She finally opened her eyes, surprised she had kept them shut this whole time. The drain was moving, spinning as it flicked up slightly every few seconds. She turned off her vibrator, the noise was distracting her from this odd occurrence. She rubbed her eyes, thinking that now she was experiencing auditory hallucinations as well as vision hallucinations; the drain will stop moving when I get my brain to believe it isn't actually moving.

Ashley studied psychology in college, and she learned about sleep deprivation and what it does to the brain. She knew that she hadn't lost enough sleep to warrant this serious of a hallucination. She slept for nine hours the previous night, she was just up late tonight. She was tired, sure, and all she wanted to do was sleep, sure, but that didn't mean she was imagining something moving if it wasn't moving.

No. The drain cap was moving. It was definitely moving. And then it shot out of its socket and spun around on the shower floor, singing it's metal and tile floor song before softly stopping. This was no hallucination, it was fully real and she knew it. Ashley knew it was real but her scientifically wired brain could not conceptualize what had just happened. A mouse pushed it, or a rat, or maybe a cockroach. No, the drain was too heavy for the latter. In any case, the animal should have come out right after it, but it didn't.

Until it did.

And it wasn't an animal. Or maybe it was. It was unlike any animal Ashley had ever seen even on that The Monster Inside Me show on TLC she watched when she didn't want to use her brain cells. It resembled most closely to a squid, or an octopus, or... or... What Ashley was trying to make herself realize and understand was that there were purple and green tentacles spewing out of her shower drain.

All Ashley wanted to do was sleep.

Despite this madness, Ashley was remarkably calm. She was still wet, still wanting to orgasm and still hungry for Alex's long cock. She managed, for a few seconds at least, to go back to that night with him and remember the long strokes he had to take to go in and out of her, only slightly being able to feel his veins rub against her walls. She remembered her several orgasms, she remembered when he said to her that he wanted her to come more than just once because he liked knowing that she was enjoying herself. She remembered his oddly comforting presence in her bedroom in contrast to his snobby, rich, fraternity boy attitude around his friends. She longed for something similar.

She felt that comfort now.

There were tentacles coming out of the shower drain. She felt comfort and warmth and love. There were tentacles coming out of the shower drain. She wanted to come so badly. There were tentacles coming out of the shower drain. She closed her eyes and reached for her vibrator.