Chapter Two - 2. The Hunger #2
Another five minutes passed and I still hadn’t come.
I dropped my phone on the mattress and stared at my cock.
Was something wrong? Was this some sort of medical issue?
My dick was still hard though, and I couldn’t ignore it.
All I needed to do was orgasm and then I could get on with the rest of my day.
I tried another story. Then another. Then, with a sinking heart, I clicked on the ‘gay’ category.
The story I ended up reading was hot, really hot, especially the descriptions of the main character being railed by a tall, dark haired man…
I ached inside. Stroking my cock felt good, of course, but it was like something was missing.
It had been different that night. Being filled up…
I let go of my dick and reached for the drawer of my bedside table, searching through its contents.
After finding the bottle of lube, I uncapped the lid and squeezed the transparent substance all over my fingers.
Maybe if I was thinking properly, I would’ve taken a moment to reflect on what I was doing.
But I wasn’t thinking. All my brain cared about was chasing an orgasm.
I propped myself against the headboard, sitting up with my legs spread. I’d start off with one finger. The lube was cool against my sensitive skin as I rubbed over the pucker.
Deep breaths. Relax.
I pushed my finger in, to the first finger joint. Okay, not bad. Then some more. It didn’t hurt, not as much as I expected. Probably because I was too distracted by my horniness. I used my other hand to pump my cock and keep it hard.
Once I’d pushed a single finger in as much as it would go, I tried to feel around for that spot Taylor had hit. It couldn’t be that deep, right? Surely I’d find it.
It was uncomfortable, though, the way I had to angle my wrist. I slid the finger out and turned around so I was on my knees, bracing myself with one forearm.
I reached behind, and slid my finger in.
It was hard to know what was going on, when all I could see was the pillow in front of me, but I pressed my fingertip against the walls, searching…
Where the fuck was it? My dick was softening and I was growing increasingly frustrated.
Maybe my finger wasn’t thick enough. That was the problem. All I needed to do was add a second. So I tried that.
“Where the actual hell is it?” I said aloud, five minutes later. I was almost completely soft and my backside was sore — and not in the good way. I might’ve lost my erection, but mentally, I was still hard as a rock. And I couldn’t come. I couldn’t fucking come.
I cleaned my lubed hand with a tissue and checked the time on my phone with my other hand, and blinked because I thought I was reading it wrong. I’d wasted half the day sleeping and then trying to jerk off.
Fuck’s sake.
I jumped out of bed, shoved on my clothes, washed my hands thoroughly in the bathroom, then headed to the gym. At least there I could burn off my frustration.
Despite remaining at the gym for almost two hours, I didn’t feel any relief. If anything, being surrounded by sweaty toned bodies made things worse. More than once I caught sight of long legs or a broad expanse of back, and my heart leaped into my throat because I thought it might be Taylor.
Once back at the dorm, while rinsing the sweat off my body, I tried to jerk off again. It still didn’t work.
That night, I lay in bed, flat on my stomach, my boner digging into the mattress, my phone screen lighting up the dark room. I typed sex toys into the search bar.
The first result led me to a website simply titled Sex Toys Galore Australia. Hating myself, I clicked on the dildo category. Not that there was anything wrong with buying a dildo. People could do whatever they wanted. I just couldn’t believe I was buying one.
But I didn’t have any other choice. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get off.
As the day had gone on, the more that hunger inside of me grew, and if I was totally honest with myself, I wanted to be filled up, by something bigger than my fingers.
I wanted something that would hit that spot inside of me, that spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids.
I’d never craved it before…
“Motherfucker,” I hissed, thumping a fist against the mattress. Taylor had broken me. He’d broken my ass and that’s why my body was all messed up.
I should march over to his room and demanded he’d compensate me by buying me a dildo of my choice. The thought made me roll my eyes. Yeah right. He’d laugh me out of his room.
Besides, there was no way I could ever give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d messed up my body.
I returned my focus to my phone. Wow. I knew dildos existed, but I’d never paid them much attention before.
There were pink ones, purple ones, blue ones…
others in various skin colour shades, from very pale to dark brown.
Some were a neutral cylindrical shape, others resembled a real penis with detailed veins on the shaft.
Then there were others that looked like they belonged to mystical monsters.
Alright, I couldn’t get overwhelmed with choice. I needed something affordable — the prices of some made my jaw drop — and something that would actually work. Not too small, but not too big either.
Thankfully, each product had the length listed. Three inches insertable length…five…seven…
How big was Taylor?
Now, doubly hating myself, I adjusted the filters so I was looking at dildos that were exactly Taylor’s length and girth. I’d have to hide the toy really well when I got it. If he’d ever found out what I’d done…
Eventually, I found one that seemed good enough.
It wasn’t particularly realistic, just a cylinder with a mushroom head, and it was a neutral light blue colour, with a flared suction base.
Good. I didn’t want something that looked real.
The dildo would simply be a tool. I didn’t want to look at it and imagine the real thing…
The listing said it was made of body safe silicone, and, after hitting the checkout and putting in my shipping address — Room 407, Valentina Hall, Halverton University — the website informed me it would arrive in two business days.