Fortunately for Jennifer, Nathan had rugby practice after school that day. She was free to drive herself home and not have to deal with the temptations his presence would surely bring in her sexed-up state.
She knew she was driving under less-than-ideal conditions. She tried with all her willpower to stay focused on the road. She hadn't gotten even halfway home when she nearly collided with a car that stopped right in front of her. She put on the brakes just in time to avoid a fender-bender.
"Shit!" she shouted. "What the hell is wrong with you, moron? Get moving!"
The car started up again just a few seconds later, and Jennifer was just about to floor the gas when she noticed the stop sign and the intersection directly ahead.
"Oh," was all she could say. She felt silly for making such a mistake. She'd driven this route hundreds of times. The silliness gave way to anger at having once again let herself get distracted.
No, it wasn't quite that. "Distracted" didn't seem to describe this particular instance. She'd been concentrating on the road, and just the road. Her thoughts hadn't drifted. She'd just...zoned out.
A car honked behind her, and Jennifer realized she was still stopped. She looked both ways down the intersection and, seeing no cars, continued on her way.
Martha was dusting the living room when Jennifer entered the house. "How was your day, Jennifer?"
"Lousy," she replied. She trudged straight up the stairs.
"Your mom asked me to tell you she'd like you to help me with dinner. We're having your father's boss and his wife over tonight."
"Okay, sure," Jennifer shouted from atop the stairs. She hadn't really listened to half of what she'd said, but that was nothing new.
She shut the door to her room and threw off her bookbag. She was so frustrated at what was happening, and even more frustrated that she couldn't seem to control her concentration. Now that she was in her room, thoughts of self pleasure returned to her mind.
"No. I can't," she said to herself very sternly. "I can't. It won't make me feel better. I'll just want it more."
She needed to keep herself busy. She dumped her books out on the bed and grabbed her math notebook.
She thought for sure she had gotten the wrong homework sheet. These problems seemed brand new to her. She tried to think about what they covered in class that day, but nothing sprang to mind. She hadn't been paying much attention then, and she couldn't remember clearly enough now. Her notebook was a little help, but not much. A few of the words and numbers were a little sloppy, and some of the notes even stopped mid-sentence, with the next line starting a brand new note.
"I am in SO much trouble," she said. Focusing on work wasn't helping. She wished she could do something to subdue her amorous feelings. "How did I ever deal with it before?" she wondered.
She knew the answer to that. Masturbation. But that couldn't work now. She was only getting hornier with every orgasm. She tried to think of what to do. She tried to focus back on math. The first problem...how could she solve it?
She was about to pick up a pencil when she realized that her hand was rubbing her crotch through her pants. She pulled it away. "What the hell!" She grabbed the pencil and prepared to write on the homework sheet. The first problem...she could solve it if she used the new technique in her notebook, but it wasn't fully shown in the notes. She thumbed through her textbook...
Eight problems later, Jennifer set her pencil down and sighed. Those were some pretty tough ones, but she'd gotten through them. She glanced over at the clock and gasped. Thirty minutes had passed since she started! There were still twelve unsolved problems on the sheet. This was going to take forever.
She shot up out of her chair and paced around the room. She was going to pieces, bit by bit. First she'd been forgetting things, then she was getting hornier, and now she was having trouble learning a new math technique. This wasn't just distraction from being horny. This was some kind of brain drain. But what was the cause? The orgasms were just a part of it. There had to be something else that started everything.
She plopped down on her bed. What could it be? She thought back to when she first started doing stupid things. Forgetting cheerleading practice yesterday afternoon...no, solving for 'x' instead of 'y' in math. That was the first thing. But there was her orgasm yesterday morning, too...and a phone call? Was that right?
"Oooh...yes," she cooed softly. At first she thought that was the answer to her mind's question, but she felt a cold breeze on her pussy lips and realized what she was really responding to.
While her brain had been trying to work, her hands had undone her pants and she was fingering herself. Now aware of the situation, she tried to pull out, but the sensations were just too good. She longed for this, and she knew it. She also knew it wasn't going to come to any good, but at the moment it felt right to be thrusting her fingers into her moist canal.
She moaned louder, falling back onto the bed, working her way to orgasm. Finally, she came, and the familiar sensations of bliss enveloped her like a warm fleece on a cold winter's day.
Someone knocked on her door. Martha's voice came from behind it. "Jennifer? Jennifer?"
"Yeah...," Jennifer sighed as loud as she could muster.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, I'm just...tired," she said.
"Can you help me with dinner? We'll have to get started right away."
The vague memory of what Martha had told her when she came home fluttered through her mind. "Be right out," she said. She sat up and looked around. The clock on her desk read 4:30. She'd been out for forty minutes. "Great, that's more time wasted."
She stumbled into the bathroom and started cleaning herself off. She felt frustrated. Her brain was fuzzy. And she was still horny. "I knew it wouldn't do any good." She gasped when all of a sudden she had an irresistible urge to stick a finger back into her vagina. "No, no, no!" She pulled it out and pulled on her thong and pants. "Not again, you stupid... grrr!"
She stared at her reflection as she washed her hands. She was getting scared now. She was losing her self-control, and she was probably losing her mind.
"Jennifer!" Jennifer could hear from downstairs. "Come on already!"
"I'm coming!" She called back. "I'm, like, in the bathroom right now!"
She dried her hands and straightened her clothes. With one final worried glimpse at her reflection, Jennifer headed down to the kitchen to help with dinner.