Chapter 7: An Experiment With Consequences

The shower ran hotter than it needed to. I washed the bar out of my hair and last night off my skin and stood there with the water on my back while I took stock of the damage.

I was surprised. I was sore, yes, a dull, occupied ache, but I was not wrecked, and I was not torn. I was fine, in the limited way a person can be fine after using a toy like a dare.

I got out. I dried off. I looked at myself in the mirror and did not love the review.

Curiosity is a problem I have never successfully fired.

I got the lube. I put one finger in my recently renovated passage, carefully, and felt around. It felt warm, normal, tight in a way that had started to recognize the shape of being opened. I withdrew and looked at my finger. There was no blood. I used the hand mirror I keep in the drawer for reasons I used to pretend were practical. It looked a little puckered, a little swollen, but otherwise fine.

I tried a second finger. Then a third. It felt good in a low, stupid way. The soreness was not bad. It was there, and it was also a sensation, and my body has been confusing those two things for weeks.

I wondered if I could come like that again. Just that. The way I had last night, drunk and furious. I wanted to know if it had been the tequila and the anger or if something in me had actually changed.

I took the dildo and the lube to my bed.

It definitely hurt more than fingers, hurt more than the night before. I managed to get the head in and almost quit. I paused to let my body adjust and, breathing through it, I understood immediately that I was too sore to be as rough as I had been at midnight. Last night I had been drunk. I had been wound up from a day of stop, hands off, walk the floor like that. I had been trying to make him take a job he would not take. Of course I had come. The conditions had been doing half the work.

If I was going to do this, I had to go slow.

I almost stopped again. Twice. But giving up is not one of my traits, so I kept going, and I rubbed my clit with my other hand because I needed the heat to have somewhere to go. I added more lube, took a deep breath, and pushed another inch gently. The burn changed temperature the way it had on the toy last night, ugly and then not. I worked it until all seven inches were in, seated as far as the base would go, and I just lay there for a moment. My finger was lazily circling my clit and seeing what would build.