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(Midterm Maelstrom, continued...)
You try to concentrate, but it is no use. Fuck it. The stupid paper can wait. It is not, after all, quite the last second yet. You consider calling Tomas out on the west coast where it is three hours earlier, but you decide against it.
So. It’s a date. A big glass of rum and V-8; good old internet porn; and your gyrating new rabbit vibrator with fresh AAs.
You get all worked up, reading saucy stories, and looking at sexy pictures and watching nasty videos. You hold off as long as you can stand to, teasing yourself with your fingers, getting wetter and wetter, until your pussy feels like an over-ripe peach, and you are sitting in a sticky puddle of your own creation.
Both feet up on the desk, kicking aside textbooks and stacks of paper, you grab your trusty pink vibe in hand and jam. You belatedly sort of wish you had a small something up your asshole, just for the sensation and the pressure back there, but there is no way you are about to stop now to grab something appropriate.
You bury the humming toy in your juicy pussy. It wiggles and squirms pleasingly as you slide it in and out, tantalizing your clit. Fuck this. Crammed in all the way, grinding it up and down, you press the buzzing tip hard against your engorged, sensitive clit.
You come hard, really hard, stomach muscles clenched, toes flexing and curling, nipples sticking out like pencil erasers. At long last you slump back in your chair. It is late. The vibrator falls from your slippery fingers and tumbles to the floor where it instantly acquires a coating of dust bunnies. Tomorrow you will wash it off. Tomorrow you will write that paper. You turn out the light and stumble naked into bed.
In the dark, under the covers, you finger yourself to another softer, more drawn-out orgasm. In the morning you will go to the library, buckle down and really get a handle on that mid-term. You sleep hard, and do not dream.