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I get my phone and charger, drink some water from the bathroom sink. By the time I get back down the stairs, I’m feeling dazed and so fuck-ready that I don’t think I’ll make it to the church without blowing my load.
I sit on the couch and take my dick out. I press a palm against the plug’s base and stroke my thick tip…lie back on the couch with my knees spread. Just a few strokes, and I come in my hand, sticky white stuff seeping through my fingers. I don’t have a napkin, and it’s dripping—so I grab a blanket.
“This is crazy.”
But I’m only half-hard now, which means my whole cock fits into the briefs.
I go into the kitchen and have a few swallows of vodka—because why the fuck not? Then I get a text saying my ride is waiting. I’m full-on hard as I get in, and this time, my cock’s not tucked against my belly. It’s trying to tent my pants. I try to rearrange as I say hi to the driver—a pretty girl with a blonde bun.
“Hi there, Mr. Rayne, how’s it going?”
“All right,” I say. “What about you?”
She shrugs. “Oh, you know, can’t complain.”
I have no clue what we say as she drives me to the church. Every time the car bumps over the road, the damn plug lights me up. When she stops at the back of the church, I almost tell her to take me back.
But—no. He wants that. He wants me to chicken out. I can go a few hours wearing this thing. Show him that his clever welcome idea doesn’t phase me.
“Have a great day,” she says. I’m pretty sure I say it back. My eyelid is twitching. I can feel warm tightness low in my belly. I can feel the fullness of my balls with every step. I stop in the hall and take some deep breaths.
Can’t come till the bathroom. After that, I won’t move as much, and this’ll be more manageable. I just need to get off one more time in the men’s.
Think of baby animals. Dead ones.
When I walk, it shifts around. I have to clench. And when I clench, my balls feel different. Maybe fuller. My dick is so hard it hurts. Hurts so good I—
Someone appears in the hall. It’s a woman. She says, “hi,” and I don’t know what happens. Something about being startled makes my ass clench, I guess, and the plug moves deeper. I’m about to come as she says, “Are you lost?”
I crack a smile. “Oh, no. I know where I’m going.”
“You must be the artist in residence.”
“Vance Rayne.” I don’t know how, but I swing my hand out. I realize my mistake as she frowns down at it. Sweaty and shaking.
She squeezes it anyway. “Nice to meet you, Vance. I’m Maria from accounting.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I wave as I start to walk again. Why does it feel so good? My knees buckle as I’m hit with a fierce swell of lust.
Fuck, I need to come. Right now.
You’re almost there. Just hold on…
I manage to avoid encounters in the eating area. I briefly consider sitting on a bench and coming in the garden. Just keep going. I pass a prayer room. My legs are really shaking now. I can feel my heartbeat in my dick.
Oh shit. Fuck me.
Somehow I make it to the atrium, where my scaffolding awaits me, plus all the supplies Pearl promised would be here today. I clench my sweaty fist and look around. No one. I head toward the bathroom, and there’s Pearl, striding toward me from the wide hallway that’s right beside it.
“Hi, Vance.”
I smile. “Hi there.”
Her eyes rest on my face. I send up a desperate prayer that she doesn’t look down at my cock. She smiles. “How are you today?”
“All good. Little bit hungover.”
“Oh no.”
“Not a habit. Drinking. I don’t do it much. I’m more of a weed guy.” I wince as my hole clenches and the toy pushes my prostate. “Sorry, God and Jesus.” I give an awkward laugh.
She laughs. “He made the good green stuff, right?”
I chuckle, then turn partway around toward the mural wall, so she can’t see the strain on my face. “I see all the stuff made it here.”
“Yep. Let me know if you need something we don’t have. We can get it delivered. Within the hour a lot of times.”
“Thanks.”
She gives a sympathetic smile. “You do seem a little bit under the weather.”
I nod toward the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna wash my face.”
“I’ve got some Advil if you need it,” she calls, as I start that way.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll come check on you after my conference call is over,” she says over her shoulder.
“I’m fine if you can’t,” I say, straining to sound casual. “Don’t go out of your way.”
