Chapter 3
Lila
Huge. Ginormous. Monstrous. And that's just the small one.
Glancing over at the full size, my heart squeezes so hard I stop breathing for a moment.
It doesn't help that my pussy clenches in need and want as I study the thick phallus.
If slick already dampens my underwear just from looking at it, I can only imagine what it would feel like forcing its way inside me.
But then… it’s still so huge. Why the fuck did I think I'd be able to handle this? Why the fuck did I think they’d be smaller?
Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I run my finger down the smooth silicone. At least it's not hard and unyielding. Perhaps it'll squish down and fit? Fat chance. I shake my head as I study the package. Beginner, intermediate, advanced.
Advanced what? Advanced cock-slut who can take every inch and beg for more? That's not me. That's not something I think I'm capable of. Not yet, at least. Squinting, I look back down at the beginner, but even that seems larger than life.
I hold it in my palm, examining the ridges and bumps as well as the thick veins that surround it. Honestly, it looks identical to the other two except for being a much smaller size.
Is it possible they used a mold of the advanced one and then sized it down for the other two? Heat fans my cheeks as I put the smaller one down and grip the full-size. My fingers barely wrap around the girth. He must be an impressive Alpha to have a cock like this.
Slick trickles out of my swollen pussy as I touch the dildo and close my eyes, imagining someone this long and girthy taking my virginity.
I fantasize about him pinning me down, forcing every thick inch into my pussy while I cry and beg, too tight, too much, but he doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt.
As enticing as that image is, however, I can't shake the unease coiling around my spine.
An Alpha this big would be big everywhere.
He'd loom over me, covering me with his massive body, trapping me beneath his weight. He’d hold me down so I couldn’t escape when he shoved inside, forcing me to take it.
And just like that, I'm back to being so turned on I let my fingers drift down the front of my pants to the clasp keeping them closed.
I should be packing to leave today, but ever since this package was dropped off by my smiling roommate, it's all I've been able to think about.
Besides, I'm almost done, so I suppose it won't hurt to try the small one out.
Just really quickly. Just a small taste before I'm back home under the scrutiny of my father.
Honestly, I'm just happy it got here in time. Imagine having to explain three huge dildos to whoever found them outside our dorm room. As I pack the other two away in my travel bag, I lean back on the bed and undo my pants. The smallest one still feels heavy in my palm as I bring it lower.
I don't really have time to fully undress, so I slip my underwear down my hips to my knees and spread my legs. As soon as I bring the tip to my entrance, my breath catches in my throat.
Just as I thought. The tip barely fits past the tight ring. Too tight. Dear God, it’s all too much, even as I clench against the intrusion like my body's rejecting it. Doesn’t matter that I'm dripping wet.
Dammit. I should have known it would be too tight. Hell, just getting two fingers inside seems to be a struggle some days. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly and force my body to relax.
As I exhale, I push the tip harder, forcing it to spread me open. The stretch burns in an oddly delicious way that makes my insides coil and clench. As I spread my hips just a touch wider, a deep, rumbling voice stops me dead in my tracks.
What the fuck is my father doing here?
Shit! Shit, shit, shit.
Yanking the dildo from my body, I jam it into my travel bag and manage to drag up my underwear and pants just as Chelsea barges in, Father in tow. Thankfully, my long shirt covers everything so they can't tell the buckle and zipper are still undone and practically splayed open.
"Hiya, Lily!" he booms out as he forces his way past her. "Ready to go?"
"W- what are you doing here?" Shock roots me to the spot as he looks around the space. "I thought you'd be home."
"Well, your mother has everything under control there, so I thought I'd help you lug this heavy stuff home."
Stepping in a bit further, I watch as his cold, gray, piercing gaze takes in every inch of my dorm room. It’s not a crime scene. It’s not some investigation he needs to run. Yet, that bristly mustache twitches as he crosses his arms.
After a minute or two, he looks at me and crosses his arms, examining my face. No doubt looking for whatever mischief I might be concealing from him. Ugh. If he knew the truth, that would be the end of college for sure.
"I mean, thank you," I stammer as I turn and try to fix myself without him noticing. "But I think I can manage. I really appreciate this, but you really didn’t have to.
"Nonsense," he cries out, his voice finally shifting back to something a bit more friendly. "And have my baby girl pack up all by herself? Not on my watch."
"Please," I practically whine as I gather the travel bag in my hands. "You really, really don't have to. I mean, you didn't last semester."
"I was on a case and couldn't. You know I wanted to be there. Now, come on. We have a long drive ahead of us."
Without another word, or question, or anything close to asking for consent, he wrenches the travel bag out of my hands—dildos and all. Mortification drips down my spine as I try to grab it back from him. His brows furrow and his eyes narrow as he holds it just out of reach.
"Whatcha doing there, Lila? I can manage this bag. Just because your old man is getting older doesn’t mean I can’t pull my weight around. Is there something in there you don't want me to see?"
Heat licks up the sides of my cheeks as I scramble to find any logical thing to tell him that won't set off that famous cop instinct. "It—it's personal," I finally manage to squeak out. "Female things. That time of the month… You know.”
This time, it's his turn to have a red face. It almost offsets the bit of ginger in his hair in a comical way if things weren’t so dire. Gingerly, he hands it back to me and takes a step back before brushing his hands against his pants.
"You know,” he says as he clears his throat. “I'm okay with female stuff. Hell, your mom—well, both of them, God rest her soul—dealt with the same thing. So it's okay if you need to—"
"I'm fine!" I cut him off, not wanting to hear another word fall from his lips.
It's too much. All of this is too much. Why the hell did I think I'd be able to get away with this? My insides clench and churn as I study his pensive face.
He has to know. He has to suspect something's up. It's his fucking job to know when someone's lying. Thankfully, Chelsea steps back in and distracts him, dragging his laser focus away from me and onto her.
"Mr. Bennett," she practically purrs as she lays her hand on his arm. "If you really want to help, Lila hasn't gotten to the kitchen yet. Do you mind giving me a hand there while she finishes up in here? Pretty sure she's almost done."
He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders as he turns toward the door. As she looks back over to me, I mouth the words thank you and place the bag back on my bed. This is bad. This is really fucking bad.
I wait until he's fully out of the room before throwing in a few more things, taking extra care to dump every feminine product I can think of on top just in case he tries to take a peek. Then and only then do I secure it in my car.
My knuckles ache as I grip the steering wheel.
Glancing up at the rearview mirror, I watch as my dad follows behind, his gaze noting every swerve, every movement, studying me as if waiting to pull me over and give me a ticket.
Every muscle screams as I keep my hands at a diligent ten and two. Even then, the unease doesn't go away.
Why did he have to come down? Why can't he just let me live my life? If I were being charitable, I'd think it's because he's worried about me and just wants me to keep me safe.
But I'm not feeling charitable.
I'm feeling bitchy, horny, and irritable. It's like he has some personal radar tuned to me that goes off the moment I try to do something for myself. Hazarding a glance down, I look at my travel bag.
Three weeks. Three fucking weeks. I think I can do this for three weeks.
Gritting my teeth, I grip the wheel again and stare out at the empty stretch of road. I don't even dare turn on music for fear of getting too into it and committing some small infraction that will bring down the dad hammer. Three fucking weeks.
My skull pounds by the time I pull into the familiar driveway. Dad pulls in beside me and shoots me a wide grin. Of course he's happy I'm home. He won't have to worry about me while I'm here under his thumb.
As much as I want to just crawl into my bed and sleep until it's time for my next semester, I know they won't let me. I'm sure they both have nothing but "fun" Christmas activities planned that they can't wait to share with me. With a soft groan, I force myself out of the car.
The sooner I get inside, the sooner I can leave. If I'm lucky, some of my other friends might be in town and I can get an out. It's a desperate thought, but enough to propel my feet to the back of the car to unload. First things first… the dildos of mass destruction.
As I hoist the bag onto my shoulder, my dad grabs a few of the heavier ones and follows me inside. Just like the last time I was home, my stepmom drops what she's doing in the kitchen and races over to me.