Someone who was, according to the algorithm I’d built, absolutely perfect for me.
I reached for the lube and squirted a thick rope into the Fleshlight, working my index finger along the ribbed sleeve tospread it around. I gripped it in both my hands and pressed the opening against my cock.
I’d always thought it looked ridiculous, this over-engineered sheath of silicone and plastic, but the first time I’d used it, I’d nearly cried. The feel of it gripping me, the way it yielded and tightened and sometimes made a tiny, greedy sucking noise, I’d thought, “Jesus, I could die doing this.”
I began slowly, the first few strokes almost chaste. My eyes dropped closed, and an image of Holly flickered on the back of my lids. The way her mouth curved a little higher on one side, the way her haphazard bun showed off the elegant slope of her neck. I tried to imagine her naked, but my brain struggled with that kind of visualization. I satisfied myself with a clothed Holly, leaning in close, whispering something conspiratorial, her hand skimming my thigh.
Goosebumps broke out over my skin, and my stomach swooped, like I was experiencing the first drop of a roller coaster.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
My mind sped up, searching for details to hang the fantasy on. I pictured her laughing, calling me “handsome” in that way that implied she thought I was a little absurd. She’d tell me to relax as she straddled me on my bed, pinning my wrists just to see if I’d squirm.
My hips jerked at the thought.
I let myself get close, right up to the edge, feeling the pulse at the base of my cock, the tightening in my gut. I held there, breath shallow, almost panting. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.
Not yet, I told myself.Not fucking yet.
I slowed to a stop, my cock sheathed and my body trembling. I could hear the blood in my ears, a deep roar. I counted to thirty and started again.
This time, it went faster—my body already tuned, nerves strung out, begging for release.
I pictured Holly in my lap, her hands steady as she unbuttoned my shirt, that off-center smile making fun of me. I imagined her pushing me down, pinning me with her knees, her weight pressing me into the mattress. I let the fantasy run riot, let her say words I could only ever imagine, let her reach down to stroke me, guide me.
I stopped again, grunting and biting down on the inside of my cheek. I let go of the Fleshlight, my erection bobbing free. My head felt light and full of static, and my heartbeat raced as I willed the wave to recede. I wanted to make this last. Wanted to punish myself for wanting her so badly.
Once more, I told myself.Just one more.
When I started again, I didn’t bother with restraint. I stroked myself hard and fast, the toy slapping rhythmically against my pelvis. I pictured Holly on her back, her hair splayed across my pillow, her mouth open, daring me to finish there.
My thighs shook, my knees pulled up, and I couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of me. I clenched my teeth, sucking a breath in through my nose. I felt fevered, my skin hot, a bead of sweat running from my temple into my hair.
I started again, faster this time, one hand gripping the toy and the other clenching the sheets. I let the fantasy spiral once more: Holly taunting me, letting me get close, and then cruelly backing off. I imagined her breath on my ear, the way she’d say, “Not yet,” as she gripped me hard at the base.
Every nerve ending in my body screamed, and I couldn’t stop shaking. Every part of me was pleading for release, but I held out, just barely, until it hurt.
I didn’t remember deciding to let go; I just did. I pressed the toy down, my hips snapping involuntarily, and came so hardI saw fireworks behind my eyes. The world contracted to one single, bright point of sensation.
I lay there, heart racing, the world coming back into focus one sensation at a time: the sweat on my chest, the faint burn in my wrist, the sharpness of my breathing in the quiet room.
I reached for the towel, wiped myself off, and tossed it onto the floor.
I felt raw, but also calm in a way I never managed except for in these moments.
I closed my eyes and tried to picture Holly again. Not the imaginary seductress, but therealHolly.
The one who was a 98 percent match.
I still couldn’t believe it.
I sat up, the room tilting slightly, and capped the lube. I pushed to my feet and walked twenty feet to my bathroom, rinsing my Fleshlight in the sink and setting it to dry on a hand towel.
I avoided looking in the mirror as I stepped into the shower.
By five, the sky had softened from black to dark lavender. My body was exhausted, but my mind felt electric, rewiring itself around a single word: Possibility.
When the first pale streaks of dawn crept across the sky, I poured out the cold dregs of last night’s coffee into the kitchen sink.
