I jerk so hard I almost drop my phone under my seat. As it is, I fumble it so badly it’s obvious to everyone who’s now looking my way what I was doing. Beside me, Valerie groans. Bless her heart, though, she does try and subtly point to the passage of the play we’ve probably been analyzing. But I’m so far beyond helping in this moment. So I fall back on my usual coping mechanism that’s gotten me this far in life.
Saying the first dumb thing that pops into my brain.
“Erm, it’s all Greek to me,” I offer the professor weakly.
My classmates take pity on me, and I get a fairly robust chorus of laughs and cheers. However, I wince as Professor Knight sighs and arches an eyebrow in my direction. “Yes, very good, Mr. Carver. I’ve never heard that one before.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling genuinely chagrined. I didn’t mean to disrespect him or be a smartass. But I’m hardly going to tell him that my head’s been completely turned by the sexiest personal ad I’ve ever seen in my life.
I’ll just have to make it up to him by writing a really thorough paper on the play…once I’ve read it.
The solution to my problem becomes obvious, though, once Professor Knight returns his attention to the whole room again. I’m not going to be able to focus on anything else until I’ve at leasttriedreplying to this post, am I?
And seeing as I’m not going to get much more out of this class anyway, I might as well quickly type it up now, right? So it’ll be done and I can get back to my regularly scheduled programing of fretting about graduating and money and life goals and everything else in between.
There’s no way I’m going to hear back from this Master guy. So I just type out the first thing that comes to mind, figuring that honesty is generally the best policy, and hit send.
But the listing has apparently woken something up inside me that has nothing to do with getting a reply or not. I drift through the rest of the day’s classes, barely hearing a word anyone else says. I’m too busy fantasizing about being a yummy little sex slave for two gorgeous men for a whole weekend. Not necessarily this specific Daddy and Master. The general concept itself has completely seized my imagination.
In my rush to get off campus, I almost ride my bike straight into Clayton the raccoon, Paddle Creek College’s unofficial mascot, as he makes a break for the trash cans near the library. The library that I’m almost certain is run by a real-life witch, Ms. Maude.
Yeah, I might be stressed about graduating. But I’ve got to be honest, I’m going to miss this weird little place like crazy when all’s said and done.
I don’t give myself too much time to reminisce before my thoughts turn back to the wanted ad like a pack of ravenous, wild hogs. I’m so lost in a fantasy that involves dipping my junk in chocolate sauce and covering it in sprinkles for some hypothetical Daddy to devour that I run a red light and almost get myself pancaked. Mercifully, all the driver does is lean out of his window and cuss me out as I bellow an apology over my shoulder, but it doesn’t make me slow down.
I don’t stop until I get back to my dorm, fly up the stairs, hurl myself through my door, lock it, throw all my clothes off—except for a rogue sock that I can’t be bothered to pause and deal with—and finally jump on top of my bed. Gasping, I squeeze the base of my rock-hard shaft in an attempt to calm it down, then lube up my favorite dildo as well as my throbbing hole.
“Yes, Daddy, yes,” I whimper to myself as I start easing it inside, letting go in a way I haven’t been able to for several weeks. “I’m your good little treat!”
I imagine it’s Daddy’s big cock I’m being stuffed with right now, panting and trembling to get its girth inside me with almost no prep at all. But in a twist to my usual fantasy scenario, this time I imagine that Daddy’s Master is watching us.
That he likes what he sees.
That I’m covered in whipped cream and cherries and chopped nuts, about to be gobbled up by my Daddy while our Master strokes his own cock, waiting for his turn with me next. That it won’t matter if I’ve already come or am too tired. What the Master wants, the Master gets. I’m his to use however he wants.
When I can’t stand it any longer and touch my leaking dick, it erupts in my hand after only three tugs, shooting cum all over my belly as I suck in oxygen like I’ve just run a marathon.
It takes several minutes for me to come down again, blinking at the ceiling with cooling, sticky spunk all over me, and an extra-large, sparkly purple dildo stuck halfway up my ass like an eggplant emoji gone wild.
I’m overcome with giggles as I ease it out and drop it on the floor, gathering up the energy to make myself presentable enough to sneak both me and it down the hallway to the showers to clean up. I’m almost embarrassed after such a feral display. However, no one else saw anything I did.
It’s fun to think that maybe next time, the whole idea will be to have someone else watching. Probably not, but at least I’ve got a whole new genre for my spank bank. Who knows? Perhaps that’ll be enough to get me through to graduation without losing my mind.
It’s certainly food for thought.
CHAPTER 2
Tallis
I only tendto come to this quaint little coffee shop when I’m vetting potential playdates. Which is a shame, because it is rather adorable. I stir a sugar lump into my black tea, watching a cat dozing nearby. Their fluffy tail is swishing and twitching over the side of the basket that they’re currently occupying. From what I know about cats, that tells me this creature might look relaxed, but their guard is still up. I imagine with all the customers around, none of the feline employees truly ever switch off.
It’s a feeling I share with them.
My eyes scan the café, observing as people enjoy drinks and pastries, chat with friends, and give affection to the cats that call Toe Beans home. I’ve always been vigilant and hyper-aware of my surroundings by nature, but I think that’s part of what makes me such a good Dom. My superior observation skills mean I can do my best to anticipate and tend to all my sub’s needs.
Delicious excitement bubbles inside me as I check the time, wondering if this little treat is going to be as good a match as I’d hoped on paper. He’s a few minutes late now, but I don’t mind that. If this arrangement goes ahead, I’ll be sure and inform him that I’ll be noting his tardiness for a future punishment.
My toes curl at the mere thought of it.