Chapter 8
JAMIE
I wake up later than usual—it’s Thursday, my study day, so I don’t have to be up as early as I normally do for work. And yet, I feel like a truck ran over me.
With a groan, I roll onto my back. My breath catches as my ass hits the mattress, sending a spark of electricity through my spine.
Jesus, I forgot about the dildo. I can’t believe it’s stayed in.
Last time I tried keeping it in overnight, it had slipped out before I woke up.
Maybe I moved around less at night this time?
I press my lower half into the mattress experimentally.
It draws a moan out of me. Unable to resist, I grind against the mattress, pushing the dildo in as far as it will go.
Fuck, it feels so good. I’ve always wanted to fall asleep with something inside me and wake up still feeling full.
It’s heaven. I’ve tried with plugs, but it doesn’t feel the same.
It doesn’t stretch me properly. Maybe I should scour the internet for some giant ones? Do they even make them like that?
My cock is already hard again, just from the little friction, the little pressure.
I decide to take the opportunity and make myself come one more time.
I make it quick this time: short, sharp jabs aimed directly where I know will make me see stars.
It takes less than two minutes before I’m shooting all over the towel I’d put down yesterday, my hole fluttering around the girth of the dildo.
I wince as I pull the toy out, the emptiness almost unbearable. With a sigh, I get out of bed and throw on a robe. The apartment is quiet, so it’s hard to say if Tyler’s here, but he should definitely be back from the gym by now.
I make my way to the kitchen under the guise of getting some water—I’m thirsty anyway.
I do a quick check as I go. Tyler’s bedroom door is open, the bed empty.
The shower’s not running. There are several pairs of his shoes on the rack by the door, so that doesn’t tell me anything.
I hear the telltale sound of Fiona munching on a piece of lettuce, and it makes me smile.
I feel bad for not leaving my door open for her last night, but I really needed the release.
Speaking of…
Now that I’m more confident that Tyler’s not here, I grab the dildo from my room and head to the bathroom with a mental note to buy condoms, so I don’t have to sneak around next time.
I clean it while I shower, soaping it up diligently.
As the suds wash off, I stare at the glistening head, and my mouth fills with saliva.
I press it to my lips and give it a lick.
It tastes like nothing, of course, just a bitter aftertaste of silicone and the soap, and I can’t help feeling disappointed.
I miss having something in my mouth. The inside has always been sensitive, even during kissing.
I haven’t done much of that, though. People don’t generally hook-up for kissing, which is a shame.
And since David was never much of a kisser…
ah, well. Blowjobs, on the other hand, are usually eagerly accepted.
I remember the first time I sucked cock.
The whole situation was stereotypically lame; it happened at a frat party, with a stranger, in a bathroom that’d seen better days.
I wasn’t very sure about it when the guy told me to get on my knees, my nerves running rampant.
But once I pulled his cock out and wrapped my lips around the head, I was lost.
It wasn’t a toy in my mouth, it was everything: the heat, the musky, masculine scent, the rush of blood I felt under my lips.
I was addicted from the start. I sucked the guy, whose name I didn’t even know, like my life depended on it.
Saliva dribbled down my chin and I made all kinds of embarrassing noises but God, when he came, hips bucking as he spilled down my throat, shouting all kinds of obscenities, I almost cried from pure bliss.
The fact that I made him feel good, made him that loud… I felt really proud of myself.
And then the shame hit me like a ton of bricks. He patted my cheek, commented something about my mouth being made for sucking, and left me there on cold tiles, with cum and saliva over my chin and my dick desperate for release.
I hate that, despite the shame, I still loved it. At least he was looking at me when I blew him, told me how good my mouth felt.
Unlike David, and the men before him whom I sucked off at glory holes when I couldn’t hold back any longer, desperate to experience the rush again.
But that’s the thing about glory holes, the whole purpose of them—anonymity.
Some of the men made noises, but they rarely ever talked, likely anxious about being recognized by their voice.
Which is understandable, but still a shame.
It’s also why I don’t really wanna go back to doing that.
But I might, if the need becomes unbearable again.
I should probably look into dating apps, though I’ve never done that, never had to.
David and I met in college. The mere idea of putting myself out there makes my stomach twist with anxiety, but I’ll have to toughen up and push through. It’s the only way.
After I finish washing up, I brush my teeth, put the robe back on, and go back to my room to get ready. As I’m throwing my uniform on, I hear the creaky sound of a door opening. But it sounds too close for it to be the front door. Which means Tyler has been here, in his office, quiet as a mouse.
Whew. At least I didn’t run into him while carrying the dildo around. That would’ve been so—
Wait.
Where is the dildo?
I look around the bed, then into the drawer. Shit. I brought it back with me, right? I had to, otherwise that would mean—
“Fuck!”
I throw the door open, praying to any deity that will listen, hell, praying to Satan himself that Tyler is in the kitchen or in the living room playing with Fiona. Anywhere but the bathroom.
I can’t see him, which isn’t good, but the bathroom door isn’t closed, so there’s still hope—
Correction, there’s no hope. Not a speck of it.
Barging into the bathroom, I feel the blood drain from my face when my eyes lock on Tyler. Standing in front of the sink. Where I left the dildo. Because I’m a complete moron. And now Tyler is staring at it. Staring at my dildo. Which was in my ass last night. And this morning.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, but it must be louder than I think, because Tyler turns his gaze to me, expression dumbstruck. I want to cry as I wait for the shock to morph into disgust.
“Morning,” he says.
Morning? Morning?!
“Isn’t it a little too big?”
Isn’t— What?
“What?” I say out loud.
“I mean…” He actually wraps two fingers around the dildo. “It’s not all that girthy, but it’s at least, what, eight inches?” He squints, like he’s actually trying to gauge the length. Then he looks at me, tilting his head. “Jesus, that thing must go through your stomach.”
Chances are I might be having a stroke. Because I don’t think I can string together a coherent thought, let alone sentence.
“What?”
Tyler winces. “Shit, sorry. What am I even saying? That was so inappropriate.”
He was being inappropriate? What the fuck?
“N-no. No, that’s…that’s fine. I just… I can’t believe you’re not disgusted. Or freaking out.”
Tyler frowns, like the thought never even occurred to him. “Disgusted? Freaking out?” He snorts. “Come on, Jamie, it’s just a dildo. A potentially lethal one,” he chuckles, “but just a dildo. It’s not like I’ve never seen, or used one.”
I blink. “You have?”
“I mean, on someone else,” he explains, laughing. “My ass is way too delicate for this.”
I can’t help it, I laugh. Manically. I don’t know if it’s because what Tyler said is that funny, or if it’s just the sheer relief from knowing he’s not disgusted. That he’s not disgusted with me.
“Laughing at me, are you?” Tyler says, and when I look up, I see him grinning widely. “Not everyone can take an anaconda up their butt.”
I burst out laughing again. I’m still embarrassed, but I don’t really mind anymore. Which is probably why my brain decides that it’s a good idea to say the following words.
“It’s not even my biggest toy.”
Tyler stops grinning, his eyes bulging out. He looks at the dildo again, then back at me. “Damn, Jamie, you have balls of steel.” He pauses. “I should say ass of steel.”
Aaand I’m back to laughing hysterically. Nothing about this exchange has been even remotely similar to what I expected.
That’s good. It’s fucking amazing.
“Thanks. I should…” I point awkwardly at the dildo. Tyler understands instantly, stepping aside so I can grab it. My face must be beet red and, though it’s redundant, I hide the dildo behind my back. “Thank you. For being so cool about it.”
He frowns again. “Yeah, of course. Life’s too short not to enjoy yourself.” He pauses. “But maybe try not leaving the biggest one around. I might actually have a heart attack if I see it.”
I honest-to-God giggle, feeling a little light-headed. And emboldened.
“You’re such an underachiever. You’d be surprised what is possible with a little practice.”
“No, thank you, my ass is precious,” Tyler retorts, shooing me out of the bathroom. “Go, and take that monster with you.”
Back in my bedroom, I can’t stop giggling.
My chest feels warm, maybe a bit from the left-over embarrassment, but mainly from Tyler’s reaction.
His easy acceptance and gentle nature makes me question my whole existence.
I’ve spent so long walking on eggshells around people, afraid to say or do something that would make them decide I’m a burden, a freak.
I haven’t known Tyler all that long, and there are still so many things he doesn’t know about me.
But the way he treats me now, the way he reacts to the things I hate the most about myself, almost makes me believe this time could be different.
That this time, I might not be rejected or abandoned for who I am.
And that’s scary. It’s dangerous. Not only because it gives rise to hope that could get crushed so easily, so effortlessly. But also because every kind word, every smile pushes me closer to the precipice I’ve been trying so hard to stay away from.
And I know, if I get too close, if I get to the edge, there will be no stopping the fall.