The Pleasure Chest Box Set(7)

I didn’t like going down on Bryan. Now I know he never liked it either. But by comparison, just the thought of taking Philip into my mouth is far more exciting. I release the dildo, taking a breath. I can’t go back to the class, but I can take this. I’ve been trying to push away this arousal, but looking at this toy I know the only way I’m going to find the release my body is seeking is by embracing it. I let my towel fall away, relaxing on the bench and spreading my legs wide.

I take the toy and fit it against myself, imagining it’s not a toy. The sensation takes my breath away as the head of the Mustang slips inside my pussy. It’s big enough to fill me up, stretching me out pleasantly as it curves upwards. This toy feels good—more real than anything else I’ve ever tried—and it’s that much easier to imagine that it’s the real thing. I can see Philip easing himself into me, that ridiculously smirk on his face. The dildo is fully inside me now, the base flush against me, and for the first time in what feels like forever my mind is clear. This is exactly what my body wanted, even if it’s not quite the real thing, it’s as close as I’m going to get.

I begin to thrust the dildo into myself, letting my eyes close, floating in this feeling of fullness and friction. I conjure up the dream from last night, Philip hovering over me, his lips brushing my collarbone as he thrusts his hips into me. In my dream I wrapped my legs around his waist as he fucked me, and I try to mimic those movements with my hand. My breath is coming in short gasps, delicious pressure building inside me. Pressing the Mustang in to the hilt, I flick my thumb across my clit. I fuck myself with short, deep, strokes, sending bursts of pleasure through me. My muscles start to shake uncontrollably as I combine the thrusts with my fingers on my clit.

In my mind I can hear Philip groaning as he pounds into me, close to coming. I’m close too, biting my lip to keep myself from moaning in the middle of my locker room. I can’t stop, moving faster with both my hands, and everything happens at once. With a final slide of my fingers, my orgasm explodes through me. My pussy squeezes down on the dildo as I continue to thrust, my body jerking with the power of my response. My feet come off the floor, and I’m lost—drowning in sensation. There’s nothing I can do but hold on as I’m wracked by waves of pleasure.

I come back to myself, slumped against the wall of the changing room, breaths heaving. I haven’t had an orgasm like that in a long time. I certainly never had an orgasm like that with Bryan. I hear the door to a locker slam shut, and I shoot upright, realizing now that I actually wasn’t alone. I have no idea what sounds I might have just made while in the throes of that orgasm, and a flush runs up my body. I think that’s my cue to leave.

I quickly wash the dildo and shove it back in my purse, and then put on the spare set of clothes I had in my gym bag. I walk out of the locker room quickly and with my head down, making sure not to make eye contact with the couple people I see who are in the room. The air outside is a breath of relief, and I relax. My body and my mind feel at ease, and I’m enjoying the pleasant warmth between my legs. I definitely can’t just give that dildo back now. I’ll have to pay for it when I can—after tomorrow when the danger of running into Philip has passed.

The day is shaping up to be a beautiful one despite the heat that’s always present this time of year. The sky is clear and the walk back to my house is a nice one. I stop at one of the coffee shops that I enjoy and grab a hot tea. I don’t go for coffee—I’m still hoping that I might be able to take a nap later today now that my body seems to be in a better state of relaxation. As I turn the corner down my street, I realize I threw my keys into my purse when I left the house and now they’re floating somewhere in the bottom of my bag.

I dig through the bottom of my bag with one hand, pushing aside the dildo and my phone and my wallet and a bunch of other things that have ended up as the detritus of my everyday life. I can hear my keys jingling, but they keep slipping just out of reach of my fingers. Suddenly there’s another person, and I’m falling flat onto my butt on the sidewalk. My tea splatters, my purse goes flying, and I’m looking up into the face of the human wall that just knocked me over.

No fucking way.

Philip Crew is standing over me, and that damned neon dildo just rolled out of my purse and landed at his feet.





7





Mayra





Of course. Of course in a city the size of L.A. I would run into the guy I’m trying to avoid on the actual street I live on.

Philip bends down, picking up the dildo. He looks at me, a knowing smile sliding across his face. “You’ve been having fun, I see,” he says.

I flush, embarrassed that he might think I would use that while thinking about him. Even more embarrassed that he’d be right. I grab my purse off the ground, scrambling to my feet. The tea is a lost cause. It’s all over the ground, but it’s more on me. I ask him, “What are you doing here?”

“The gym I own,” he says, pointing in the direction I came from. “It’s just a couple blocks from here. I was just heading into to the office to do some housekeeping.”

“Oh.” I vaguely recall a rock climbing gym in that area, and I never really payed attention because I never wanted to do it.

“What are you doing here?” he returns the question.

“Well, I was at the gym. Then I was drinking tea,” I gesture to the ground, “and now, I’m going home.”

He takes a step back, extending his hands in surrender—a gesture that is made far more hilarious with a dildo in his hands. “Listen, Mayra. I’m glad this happened. I wanted to check in with you, and after what happened I wasn’t sure you were planning on coming back tomorrow.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t.”

“I don’t know what happened.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “If I came on too strong, I really apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable. I would never want that.”

I have to admit, that wasn’t what I was expecting. I would have thought he would chase after me to soothe his wounded pride—to prove that he could get whatever girl he chose. I sigh, my resolve to completely avoid him wavering.

I can feel the spilt tea soaking through my shirt, the sugar I used making my skin sticky. At the very least I can invite him in and talk to him. That’s all that has to happen. Maybe if I explain what happened with Bryan he’ll understand why I came to the class, and why I can’t jump in with someone who's bound to treat me the same way. And if I’m going to have this conversation, I’m going to do it in a clean shirt.

I point towards my house. “I live right there. Do you want to come in for a second? I’ll explain, and have the chance to clean up.”

“I’d love that,” he says.

I finally manage to find my keys, which is what had started this whole situation. I wonder what I would have done if I hadn’t been digging in my bag and had just seen him coming towards me. Would I have hidden behind a tree or something? Part of me hopes I’d have enough pride not to do that. The other part of me knows that’s exactly what I would have done. There’s the tiniest part of me that’s thinking that just going and hiding behind a tree until he goes away might still work, but I’m not crazy enough to try.

My house is split into two separate apartments, and I have the top floor. One of the reasons I liked it when I moved in was the proximity to people in an emergency, but also the privacy or a separate entrance.

Philip follows me up the stairs and I’m acutely aware of how close his body is behind me. I cast my eyes around my apartment, making sure there isn’t anything too messy piled up. Once I’m sure I’m not going to be mortified, I let him in and let him follow me into the kitchen. I dump my bags onto a chair and head towards my bedroom. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a second.”

I tear off the shirt covered in tea, quickly replacing it with another t-shirt—I make sure it’s one of my cute ones. I glance in the mirror, lamenting my lack of make-up while simultaneously chiding myself for wanting to put on make-up for him. I run my fingers through my hair a couple times, resigning myself to my post gym look as I hear him say something from the kitchen. It’s muffled and I don’t catch it.

Deciding to call my hair a loss, I grab a hair tie, twisting it up into a ponytail while I go back into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”

He grins. “I asked why you kept the dildo.”

The question takes me off guard, and I feel myself freeze up, feel my face go pink with embarrassment. ‘I kept the dildo because I was afraid I’d plaster my body against yours if I got close enough to put it back’ is not an acceptable answer. Subject change…now. “Do you want something to drink?” I go to the fridge, deciding avoidance is the best choice. “I’ve got water, soda, coffee, tea.”

“I’m fine. Thanks,” he says. I grab a water bottle from the fridge, and when I turn around he’s right there. “Why did you keep it?” His voice is a low rumble that I feel in my bones, and I curse my body for responding—for loving it.