Chapter 5: Saving water again
The silence after class dismissed wasn’t quiet. It was a living thing, thick and expectant, humming in the walls of the apartment. For two days, it stretched, a taut wire between their usual routines. Annie studied with a ferocious, almost punishing focus. Troy reorganized the DVD collection twice. Abed silently filmed establishing shots of empty rooms.
The unspoken question wasn’t if, but when, and more importantly, how. The shower had been a chaotic, equalizing event. A reset. Annie, lying in her bed at night, tracing the patterns on her ceiling, knew with a cold, clear certainty that equality wasn’t the goal. Control was. Understanding was. The living room had been their curiosity. The shower had been their shared hunger. The next step had to be hers alone.
She chose Thursday. 8:17 PM. She knew they’d just finished watching a movie.
She stood before the bathroom mirror, already undressed, her reflection a pale smudge against the steamed-over glass. Her heart was a steady, determined drumbeat. This wasn’t about being walked in on. This was an invitation, a summons written in steam. She turned the shower on full, the hot water thundering into the tub, and let the room fill with a dense, tropical fog. She did not lock the door.
She waited.
The knock, when it came, was tentative. Two soft raps.
“It’s occupied,” she called out, her voice not raising above the shower’s roar.
The door opened a crack. Troy’s face appeared, a slice of apprehension and hope in the haze. “Annie? You okay? You’ve been in here a while.”
“I’m conducting an examination,” she said, not turning from the mirror. She watched his reflection blur and sharpen as he pushed the door open wider. Abed was behind him, a silent shadow.
“An examination of what?” Abed asked, his eyes already scanning the scene: the running shower, her nakedness, the deliberate stance.
“Of practical application,” Annie said. She finally turned. The steam curled around her legs. “You received… introductory training. You showed aptitude. But proficiency requires directed, repetitive practice.”
Troy’s mouth opened, then closed. He understood the words, but their implication hung in the humid air, almost too heavy to grasp. “Practice,” he repeated.
“On what?” Abed asked, though his gaze had already dropped, taking in the details of her body with a cinematographer’s eye for light and shadow.
Annie took two steps forward until she was at the edge of the tub, the spray hitting her lower back, beading on her skin. She looked from one to the other, her expression not stern, but utterly serious. A professor about to demonstrate a complex technique.
“On me.”
The words landed with the force of a physical blow. Troy’s breath hitched. Abed nodded once, slowly.
“The student becomes the teaching apparatus,” Abed said. “A logical, if intimate, progression.”
“But… how?” Troy asked, his voice hushed.
Annie placed a hand on the damp edge of the sink for balance. She lifted one foot, then the other, stepping backwards into the tub. The hot water enveloped her legs, her hips, her stomach. She stood fully under the spray, letting it soak her hair and run down her face. Then she reached out and, with a decisive yank, pulled the shower curtain halfway shut, not for privacy, but to frame the space.
She looked down at them from her elevated position. Water streamed down the channel of her spine, over the curves of her ass.
“You have textbooks,” she said, her voice carrying over the water. “Now you need lab time. Get in here. Both of you. And get on your knees.”
For a second, they didn’t move. The command, so direct, so utterly foreign from Annie, seemed to short-circuit their usual responses. Then, moving as one, they obeyed. Troy kicked off his sneakers, fumbling with his jeans. Abed simply peeled off his shirt and sweats, his movements economical. They climbed into the tub, the water instantly soaking their boxers, then pushed them off. They knelt before her on the hard porcelain, the spray drenching their heads and shoulders.
They looked up at her, water running down their faces. Two disciples in a steaming, tile-walled chapel.
“Proficiency,” Annie stated, her hands coming to rest on her hips, “starts with anatomy. You learned the external structures. Now you learn function. Sensitivity. Response.”
She shifted her stance, widening her legs just enough. The water cascaded down the inside of her thighs. “Abed. You will focus on the primary vulvar structures. The clitoris. The labia. Observe. Then engage.”
Abed leaned forward, his eyes inches from her. His look was one of intense study. “The terrain is different under aqueous conditions,” he noted.
“Adapt your methodology,” she instructed.
His first touch was a tentative press of his thumb against her mound. Then he used his fingers to gently part her, his other hand bracing on her thigh. The shower water diluted everything, but the heat of her was distinct, a separate warmth from the spray. He leaned in closer, his breath a hot contrast on her skin. Then his tongue touched her, a flat, experimental stroke.
Annie gasped, her fingers gripping the shower curtain rod above her. It wasn’t like a hand. It was softer, more specific, and infinitely more strange.
“Troy,” she managed, her voice tightening. “Your area of study is adjacent. The perineum. The anal opening. Start externally. Use your tongue. Learn what pressure works.”
Troy, kneeling to her side, needed no further invitation. He’d been watching Abed with rapt attention. He placed his hands on the backs of her thighs, his grip firm and sure, and lowered his head. He didn’t analyze. He just acted, pressing his open mouth against the place where her cheek met her thigh, then licking a broad, wet path upwards.
The dual sensation was immediate and blinding. Abed’s tongue was circling her clit now with a surprising, relentless precision, as if solving a puzzle. Troy’s was broader, rougher, lapping at her with the enthusiastic clumsiness of a puppy, his stubble scratching the delicate skin.
“Yes,” Annie hissed, her head falling back. “Like that. Abed, less circling, more direct up-and-down friction. There. Troy, higher. Right there.”
She was directing them, choreographing her own undoing. The power of it was intoxicating. She could feel Abed adjusting his technique, his tongue firming, flicking against the exposed nub of nerve endings with a dedication that was almost robotic in its focus. Troy, following orders, found the tight, hidden pucker of her ass and swirled his tongue around it, probing gently.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned. The filthy word felt perfect in the steam. “Don’t stop. Either of you.”
It became a frantic, wet symphony. The roar of the shower. The slick, sloppy sounds of their mouths on her. Abed’s quiet, focused breathing. Troy’s eager grunts. Annie’s commands dissolved into a stream of ragged pleas and affirmations.
“Yes! God, right there! Lick it! Eat it! Eat my fucking pussy, Abed!”
Abed redoubled his efforts, his nose buried in her, his tongue driving into her as deeply as it could go before returning to torment her clit. His hands came up to grip her hips, holding her steady for his consumption.
Troy, emboldened, pushed his tongue inside her ass, just a little, a shocking, intimate invasion that made her cry out and buck against his face. He groaned, the vibration radiating through her core.
“Troy, yes! Do that again! Fuck!”
She was losing control of the lesson. The sensations were hijacking her nervous system. Her thighs began to tremble violently. The careful architecture of her command was crumbling under a seismic wave of gathering pleasure.
“I’m gonna… I can’t…” she gasped, but the warning was useless.
It crashed over her without mercy. A raw, screaming climax tore from her throat, bending her forward over the curtain rod. Her cunt clenched down on nothing, pulsing violently, the sensations amplified tenfold by Abed’s relentless tongue. Troy kept licking, riding the waves of her convulsions, his own noises muffled against her skin.
The world shrank to white noise and blinding light. When it finally began to ebb, she was limp, held up only by her grip on the rod and their hands on her body.
Slowly, Abed pulled back, his face glistening with water and her. He looked up at her, panting. “The physiological response was significantly more pronounced than in previous observational data.”
Troy leaned back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dazed and triumphant. “Dude. That was an A-plus. We definitely passed.”
Annie slowly regained her breath, her body humming, every nerve alight. She looked down at their earnest, wet faces. The control had slipped, yes. But it had been hers to give away. And in the giving, she’d gotten everything.
She reached down, her hands trembling, and cupped their cheeks. Her thumbs stroked their jawlines.
“Good,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Very good. Now… clean up. The lesson’s over.”
She stepped out of the tub, her legs barely supporting her, and grabbed a towel. She didn’t look back as she walked, dripping, to her room. Behind her, she heard the shower turn off, and the soft, bewildered laughter of her two best friends, now something else entirely, left in the steam.