The sensations ease, but the orgasm doesn’t fucking come.
I try it again, ramping up, building, building…
“Orgasm ineffective,” I mutter, because how the fuck else am I supposed to say it? “Attempting again while fantasizing about external…external stimulus…”
I trail off as I let images ofhimcome to mind—as I imagine his calloused hands on my thigh, as I give myself permission to picture where else he might have scars, old tech. I imagine his tongue on my throat, his tendrils on my breasts, his cock pounding into me.
“Ohfuck,” I curse. “Oh shit…yes, yes, I’m coming?—”
No I’m not.
I don’t.
Not even thinking about him.
I growl in frustration and pull the toy out, tossing it hard enough that it flies onto the floor and vibrates in a circle, rattling the wooden boards. This is…it’s fucking humiliating. My thighs are slick, my heart’s still racing, my whole body aches…and nothing. No release. No relief.
Just more desire.
I sit up and yank the scarf off my head like it’s somehow part of the problem. My curls spring free, soft and damp where the conditioner hasn’t dried. I tug on my hair as if that’s going to help, my body pulsing with leftover need.
I want to scream.
Instead, I mutter, “Trial one complete. No climax. High arousal, escalating frustration, mental fatigue. Conclusion…thisfucking sucks.”
I turn off the recording and drop the tablet on the bed.
Then I just sit there.
Forwaytoo long.
I could cry. I won’t. But I could. It’s not even just about not coming, it’s about not feeling in control. Not being able to predict or command my own body. That’s always been my one constant—no matter what else is happening, Iknowmy body. I know my pleasure. I know how to chase it down and take it when I want it.
Now…I’m locked out. Like I’ve forgotten the language, the syntax, the way the signals used to fire cleanly from brain to nerve to pulse to yes, yes,yes.
I reach for my comm on the nightstand, and before I know it, I’ve pulled up Kaelion’s contact card. I have his number in case of emergencies…and I’ve never used it.
Right now, I want to.
I want to tell him hey, the experiment doesn’t work but I’m all fucking wound up and Ineed you to fuck me.I want to cross every ethical boundary for the sake of getting off. I want to lie in his bed and talk all night.
I want…fuck me, I want to lie in his bed and talk all night.
That alone is enough of a reason for me to navigate away from his contact—going to Orin instead, my reliable hookup whenever I just want a warm body inside me instead of a vibrator. He doesn’t mind it; it’s a mutual using situation.
And I need that right now.
lyn
hey. you up?
orin
yeah, what’s wrong
I pause.
lyn
