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In my hurry to leave the store yesterday, I forgot to put it back. But I can’t even think about that, because everything I’ve spent the last couple hours pushing down comes roaring back. I see Philip’s smirk, hear his voice as he says Well…not quite my size. I avoided looking at it much yesterday, but I do now. It’s a detailed replica, subtle veins running along the surface and the texture soft and supple like skin. The swirl of neon colors removes it from reality in a pleasant way. I like it—flesh colored dildos always freak me out a little. I pick it up, and I remember its name. The Mustang. I like the feel of it in my hands—soft enough to be pliable, firm enough to feel real. A ferocious curiosity grips me, and before I even realize I’m washing off the dildo and making sure that the door to my changing room is locked. I peek outside to make sure I’m alone, but luckily it’s still early and I don’t hear anyone else in the locker room.
If this toy is actually close to his size, then I want to know how he fits in me, and how much I can take. I raise the toy—the Mustang—to my lips, and I feel a quiver of anxiety. This dildo isn’t small, and if he’s bigger than this…
His voice echoes in my head again, and I remember the way his breath felt against my ear. Trust yourself to be in the moment. You’re a beautiful woman.
I suck the head of the dildo into my mouth, and can’t help but imagine that it’s him. That I’m kneeling in front of him, taking him as deep as I can. I fail completely to stifle my moan, and I hope that there is actually no one in here. I do exactly what Philip described, swirling my tongue around the head and teasing the bottom. I suck on it, picturing the way his eyes might close as I do. Gripping the base, I push it deeper into my mouth. I take it as deep as I can, letting the tip touch the back of my throat, enjoying the smoothness of the dildos surface and the feeling of fullness it gives me.
I didn’t like going down on Bryan. Now I know he never liked it either. But by comparison, just the thought of taking Philip into my mouth is far more exciting. I release the dildo, taking a breath. I can’t go back to the class, but I can take this. I’ve been trying to push away this arousal, but looking at this toy I know the only way I’m going to find the release my body is seeking is by embracing it. I let my towel fall away, relaxing on the bench and spreading my legs wide.
I take the toy and fit it against myself, imagining it’s not a toy. The sensation takes my breath away as the head of the Mustang slips inside my pussy. It’s big enough to fill me up, stretching me out pleasantly as it curves upwards. This toy feels good—more real than anything else I’ve ever tried—and it’s that much easier to imagine that it’s the real thing. I can see Philip easing himself into me, that ridiculously smirk on his face. The dildo is fully inside me now, the base flush against me, and for the first time in what feels like forever my mind is clear. This is exactly what my body wanted, even if it’s not quite the real thing, it’s as close as I’m going to get.
I begin to thrust the dildo into myself, letting my eyes close, floating in this feeling of fullness and friction. I conjure up the dream from last night, Philip hovering over me, his lips brushing my collarbone as he thrusts his hips into me. In my dream I wrapped my legs around his waist as he fucked me, and I try to mimic those movements with my hand. My breath is coming in short gasps, delicious pressure building inside me. Pressing the Mustang in to the hilt, I flick my thumb across my clit. I fuck myself with short, deep, strokes, sending bursts of pleasure through me. My muscles start to shake uncontrollably as I combine the thrusts with my fingers on my clit.
In my mind I can hear Philip groaning as he pounds into me, close to coming. I’m close too, biting my lip to keep myself from moaning in the middle of my locker room. I can’t stop, moving faster with both my hands, and everything happens at once. With a final slide of my fingers, my orgasm explodes through me. My pussy squeezes down on the dildo as I continue to thrust, my body jerking with the power of my response. My feet come off the floor, and I’m lost—drowning in sensation. There’s nothing I can do but hold on as I’m wracked by waves of pleasure.
I come back to myself, slumped against the wall of the changing room, breaths heaving. I haven’t had an orgasm like that in a long time. I certainly never had an orgasm like that with Bryan. I hear the door to a locker slam shut, and I shoot upright, realizing now that I actually wasn’t alone. I have no idea what sounds I might have just made while in the throes of that orgasm, and a flush runs up my body. I think that’s my cue to leave.
I quickly wash the dildo and shove it back in my purse, and then put on the spare set of clothes I had in my gym bag. I walk out of the locker room quickly and with my head down, making sure not to make eye contact with the couple people I see who are in the room. The air outside is a breath of relief, and I relax. My body and my mind feel at ease, and I’m enjoying the pleasant warmth between my legs. I definitely can’t just give that dildo back now. I’ll have to pay for it when I can—after tomorrow when the danger of running into Philip has passed.
The day is shaping up to be a beautiful one despite the heat that’s always present this time of year. The sky is clear and the walk back to my house is a nice one. I stop at one of the coffee shops that I enjoy and grab a hot tea. I don’t go for coffee—I’m still hoping that I might be able to take a nap later today now that my body seems to be in a better state of relaxation. As I turn the corner down my street, I realize I threw my keys into my purse when I left the house and now they’re floating somewhere in the bottom of my bag.
I dig through the bottom of my bag with one hand, pushing aside the dildo and my phone and my wallet and a bunch of other things that have ended up as the detritus of my everyday life. I can hear my keys jingling, but they keep slipping just out of reach of my fingers. Suddenly there’s another person, and I’m falling flat onto my butt on the sidewalk. My tea splatters, my purse goes flying, and I’m looking up into the face of the human wall that just knocked me over.
No fucking way.
Philip Crew is standing over me, and that damned neon dildo just rolled out of my purse and landed at his feet.
7
Mayra
Of course. Of course in a city the size of L.A. I would run into the guy I’m trying to avoid on the actual street I live on.
Philip bends down, picking up the dildo. He looks at me, a knowing smile sliding across his face. “You’ve been having fun, I see,” he says.
I flush, embarrassed that he might think I would use that while thinking about him. Even more embarrassed that he’d be right. I grab my purse off the ground, scrambling to my feet. The tea is a lost cause. It’s all over the ground, but it’s more on me. I ask him, “What are you doing here?”
“The gym I own,” he says, pointing in the direction I came from. “It’s just a couple blocks from here. I was just heading into to the office to do some housekeeping.”
“Oh.” I vaguely recall a rock climbing gym in that area, and I never really payed attention because I never wanted to do it.
“What are you doing here?” he returns the question.
“Well, I was at the gym. Then I was drinking tea,” I gesture to the ground, “and now, I’m going home.”
He takes a step back, extending his hands in surrender—a gesture that is made far more hilarious with a dildo in his hands. “Listen, Mayra. I’m glad this happened. I wanted to check in with you, and after what happened I wasn’t sure you were planning on coming back tomorrow.”
“You’re right, I wasn’t.”
“I don’t know what happened.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “If I came on too strong, I really apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable. I would never want that.”
I have to admit, that wasn’t what I was expecting. I would have thought he would chase after me to soothe his wounded pride—to prove that he could get whatever girl he chose. I sigh, my resolve to completely avoid him wavering.
